Phantom exit

A chair still warm, but no one’s there.
A coat on the hook, swaying like breath.
On the mirror: a smudge, a trace,
Not a face, just the weight of air.

I don’t chase the ones who disappear,
You were never never really here.

So run, run into the burning glow,
You’re a flicker in the after-show.
You’re the space between a wave and sound,
Gone before you even touch the ground.

A spoon still spins inside the cup,
A door still creaks, but no one’s there.
Your name is dust between my teeth,
A taste that fades, a word unsaid.

I don’t chase the ones who disappear,
You were never never really here.

So run, run into the burning glow,
You’re a flicker in the after-show.
You’re the space between a wave and sound,
Gone before you even touch the ground.

A chair still warm, a spoon still spins,
A smudge, a trace, a breath
All of you was made of mist,
And now there’s nothing left.

So run, run into the burning glow,
You’re a flicker in the after-show.
I don’t chase the ones who disappear,
You were never never really here.

I don’t chase the ones who disappear,
You were never never really here.

Paper moon

You handed me a stolen sun,
A lantern cut from magazine gold.
I held it up against the dark,
It flickered once, then tore in two.

Paper moon, thin hands
Falling from a borrowed sky,
Slipping through my palms.

I traced your name in steam and dust,
A map I thought could lead me home.
The wind just laughed, erased the path,
Left only footprints made of salt.

Paper moon, thin hands
Falling from a borrowed sky,
Slipping through my palms.

The radio hums an empty tune,
A song that once had blood and bone.
Now just a thread without a knot,
Unraveling in quiet air.

Paper moon, thin hands
Falling from a borrowed sky,
Slipping through my palms.

So here I stand with silver scraps,
A tattered glow, a paper crown.
The night is full, the night is whole
And I don’t need a hollow light.

Gate B12

you said it
first night
don’t fall / don’t

hoodie on your knees
gate B12
I watched
you not turning back

the sea was too loud
you came anyway
bare feet,
my heartbeat in the sand somewhere

you laughed
through my favorite scene
bit your lip
when I dropped the rice

the one who runs
always wins
left me mid-sentence
I stayed.

that café
you said the chairs were too low
I didn’t say that out loud
your earring caught in my sweater

I kept the thread
still blue, still smells like smoke
you asked what I’d be
elsewhen, I said: “yours”

you blinked
clouds moved

the one who runs
always wins
I called it a story
you didn’t.

you left
your voice
on my voicemail

and basil
still makes me
close my eyes

Fortnight

Your shoes still by the door,
my hoodie folded wrong on your chair.
Half a season left unwatched,
and chocolate you never finished.
You said it tasted like Tuesdays.
I still don’t know what that means.

You laughed with your eyes closed
on the second night,
called me “captain” when I spilled the tea,
ate toast in bed on the fifth,
stopped talking during the ninth
right after the lightbulb buzzed twice.

Fourteen nights
and somehow I still taste them.
Your hand on my neck,
your silence in the morning.
It was never nothing
but it never became something.

We slept with windows open,
the air smelled like rain and dust.
You traced constellations on my back
and named one after your old dog.
You never told me why you cried
when I said “lemon tree.”

I keep your first breath in the morning,
the way your voice cracked saying “sure.”
The sound of your thumb on the window
when you watched the rain
and thought I wasn’t looking…
…but I was.

Fourteen nights
and I still hear the key turn.
Your shadow in the hallway,
your laugh behind the door.
It was never nothing
but it never became something.

I keep counting
like it’ll bring you back.
Fourteen nights.
And then
then there’s just me.

Elsewhen

You were making space
in your second drawer.
I was already folding
my goodbyes into silence.

You asked if I liked this city.
I said “it’s growing on me”
but I didn’t mean the place
I meant you.

Elsewhen.
Maybe I stayed.
Maybe I leaned in instead of drifting out.
You were planting roots I was still wind.

The coffee mug with the fox on it
is still on my shelf.
You said I could keep it.
I didn’t say thank you.
I couldn’t.

You looked at me like a question
I didn’t know how to answer.
I kissed you like punctuation.
Not a comma just a full stop.

Elsewhen.
Maybe we walked the same way.
You with your maps me without.
You with a door
me with a window open.

I don’t regret the leaving.
But I still whisper your name
when no one’s around, not to call you back.
Just to hear how it sounds in the air.

The Sound of dust

The door still swings but no one knocks,
The books still breathe in yellowed lines.
Your footprints linger on the floor,
Like something waiting to be found.

Dust moves, hush and slow
Curling in the hollow air,
Resting on my skin.

A glass left full, a clock unwound,
The outline where a frame once lay.
Your name still lingers on my tongue,
A sound too quiet to escape.

Dust moves, hush and slow
Curling in the hollow air,
Resting on my skin.

The wind still hums, the papers shift,
A whisper caught inside the walls.
Not loud enough to call you back,
Not soft enough to fade away.

Dust moves, hush and slow
Curling in the hollow air,
Resting on my skin.

If I don’t move, if I don’t breathe,
Will I hear it whisper back?

If I don’t move, if I don’t breathe,
Will I hear the sound of dust?

Postcards from the future

Dear me, a few years down the line,
Hope you still love wasting time.
By the way, that dream you chase?
Turns out, it’s running at your pace.

The city you swore you’d leave behind?
Well, surprise, you’re still confined.
The jacket you saved up to buy?
Yeah, it just hangs there, tags still tied.

I know you, you still believe,
That things get better when you leave.
But postcards never change the view
They’re just old news sent back to you.

So don’t wait for the great reveal,
It’s all reruns, the tape won’t peel.
The future’s just the past in drag,
Wrapped in paper, stamped and tagged.

That book you swore you’d finally write?
Spoiler: half a page in one long night.
And love? Well, let’s just say,
You learned to swallow down your pain.

I know you, you still believe,
That things get better when you leave.
But postcards never change the view
They’re just old news sent back to you.

So don’t wait for the great reveal,
It’s all reruns, the tape won’t peel.
The future’s just the past in drag,
Wrapped in paper, stamped and tagged.

But hey, here’s one thing I got wrong:
You do learn how to sing your song
Not for crowds, not for fame
Just a quiet tune with your own name.

So write your lines and take your time,
The future’s just a thin design.
You’re still you, just slightly worn,
Signed: You, a little more forlorn.

How it started

“Do you always sit alone?"
"You never laugh enough."
"I don’t drink coffee, but I like the smell."
"I’d follow you anywhere.”

“You talk in circles."
"You listen like you already know the ending."
"Close your eyes, just trust me."
"I had a dream about this place.”

“Tell me again how it started."
"Tell me again how everything started between us"
"Tell me again how it started."
"Tell me again how everything started between you and me”

“I always knew it would be you."
"We should take a dog."
"What if we just never stopped driving?"
"Your hands are colder than mine today.”

“You look tired."
"Don’t turn the light off yet."
"You’re not listening."
"I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s just a headache."
"You’re overthinking again."
"Let’s talk about something else."
"I love you”

“Tell me again how it started."
"Tell me again how everything started between us"
"Tell me again how it started."
"Tell me again how everything started between you and me”

“Your jacket still on the chair."
"The tea went cold."
"They said it happened fast."
"I’d follow you anywhere.”