Memoirs of my boulevard

Shock I wake to emptiness, a world I don’t recognize, hands reaching for you in the dark. Denial I pretend you’re still here, just busy, just gone for a minute. The silence lies. Anger Every memory burns. I tear us from my life, asking why you left, why I stayed. Bargaining What if I’d tried harder, been someone else? I’d give anything to turn back time. Sadness The world aches with your shadow, our laughter faint as dust, your absence, endless. Acceptance One day, the silence softens. The world returns, piece by piece— a little bruised, but whole.

My heart races, stumbles, and speeds, A frantic rhythm I can’t unheed. Chest tightens, aches in silent pleas— Love left its mark, and won’t let me breathe. Every beat like a ghostly grip, A squeezing hand I can’t outstrip. Lungs grasp at air but come up short, Lost in the rhythm of love’s retort. I sit alone with echoes deep, Wounds unwelcome, secrets I keep. Though time will mend, for now it reigns— A heartbeat heavy with love’s remains.

Unchosen, I stand in the quiet night, Under stars that burn, distant and bright. I reached out, hoping, hands open wide, But love, like a shadow, slipped to the side. I offered my heart, warm and sincere, But it went unheard, it drifted near. Your gaze passed over, never to stay— And so I let go, as dawn took the day. Now I walk onward, finding my way, Learning that love is not always to stay. For even in longing, there's strength to find The beauty in freedom, the peace in the mind...

Your voice cracked faintly through the line, “It's for the best,” you said, “you didn't do anything wrong.” A click, then silence, sharp and bare, And I was left with you nowhere.

A relationship of convenience Where hearts don't seek or feel, Two lives entwined in shallow streams, But never quite as real. We trade our time, we share our space, But passion slips away, A silent pact, a knowing glance— No love in words we say. Our comforts form a fragile bond, Not woven from desire, A fleeting flame that flickers on, Yet never sparks a fire. In borrowed moments, we exist, For what we need, not more, A hollow dance in measured steps, Outside love’s open door. But in the end, what’s left to hold? A void we can't embrace. For love, once built on circumstance, Is gone without a trace.