Whisperweave

How can I not yearn for someone who fills the air around me?

If I could bend what the universe has written, I would pour every drop of ink into your verse…

I’m used to not having you in my space, but now that I’ve felt how heavenly it is, I’m afraid of losing sight of you.

I never knew I could miss someone like this—until you.

You answered more than just ‘hello,’ yet said goodbye with no echo, no words.

There are things you cannot force; all you can do is beg with every breath, with every beat.

You never stayed, for you were never really here. How could I call you back, when all you ever were was gone?

How long will we stand on opposite edges of this line? We’re already running parallel—so why aren’t we moving to meet in the middle?

Yearning for you is one of the cruelest, yet my most favorite things to do.

Teenage you had me crushing, crashing, completely undone.

Is it really that hard to realize that I am madly in love with you? Or have you known it all along—and that’s why you keep making me fall even harder, to the point where I can no longer forget you?

How can you hold such power that, from a distance, you brushed a hidden part of my soul—one untouched even by the closest hands?