Who I am.

Ours was carved in restless shadows…
In the places hearts don’t sleep.
We did not bloom in gentle timing,
Nor in hands that knew their way;
We were thunder without warning…
We were night that chased the day.
For I—
Did not love you soft or small,
Did not guard my heart at all;
I fell like something meant to break…
A risk I did not try to take.
And oh—
How cruel the truth of “not meant to be,”
How sharp the edge of memory;
When every moment still remains…
A ghost that walks inside my veins.
You think—
That endings mean it wasn’t real,
That broken things were never steel;
But some loves burn, then fall apart…
And leave their echo in the heart.
I see—
The way you linger in my mind,
A fleeting trace I cannot bind;
Not mine to keep, not yours to stay…
Yet something I can’t throw away.
And still—
I do not curse the path we crossed,
Nor count our time as something lost;
For even endings serve their role…
Some loves don’t last—
They shape the soul.
So go—
And walk the road you’re meant to find,
While I make peace with what’s behind;
But know this truth, however far…
You are not gone—
You are…
What taught me
Who I am.