Wednesday, September 9, 2026

 It's strange, 

The things you miss.

A hand of spades,

A lost chance at a kiss.

A rain soaked borrowed jacket,

A walk through the woods in the mist.

A text in the night asking for a smoke,

A sit in long silence

Trying to find the words to evoke

That feeling of warmth 

In the pit of my chest

That left

The day we said

Goodbye.