“The Places We Once Touched”
by Quotely 28
There was a time when silence felt like home,
when your eyes spoke more than words had known.
We sat in rooms where nothing moved,
yet every glance was loud, every sigh approved.
I still recall the coffee stains you left—
not on tables, but within my chest.
The songs you hummed now haunt the air,
familiar tunes that end in despair.
You loved me like a sunrise —
brief, beautiful, and blinding.
And I held on like the night,
hoping the morning wouldn’t come.
We built dreams out of borrowed time,
painting futures in borrowed rhyme.
But love that arrives too soon or late
is love the clock won’t tolerate.
I watched you drift,
not with rage, but with rain—
the kind that falls slow,
but never feels less like pain.
And though I wanted all of you,
I never asked you to stay.
Because real love sometimes means
letting the storm walk away.
Now I visit the places we once touched—
pillows, park benches, my own skin—
and wonder if you ever do the same,
or if I was just a fleeting wind.
Some loves are carved,
not to last—but to mark.
You were a poem I could never finish,
and I am a flame you left in the dark.
So go, if you must, with all you became—
I’ll stay here,
where your shadow still knows my name.