I still feel it

I still feel it

I still see her expressions

the way her face could speak

before her lips ever moved.

I could predict her like a storm,

and still, she’d leave me undone.

I still feel her touch,

too much sometimes

clinging, smothering,

yet now I ache for it in silence.

Her anger was thunder,

her silence—lightning waiting to strike.

It always made me nervous,

as if she could unravel me with just a pause.

I still remember her eyes,

not just looking, but piercing,

seeing through the walls I thought I built.

Her gifts carried a thrill,

her kiss,my first lesson in fire,

her cuddles,the only place the world felt soft.

But I also feel the weight

her control, her gravity,

how she made herself

the center of my spinning universe.

How I revolved around her,

helpless and vulnerable.

She came each night to cook for me,

to remind me she was everywhere,

in every corner of my life.

And even now

a year later

I still feel it all.

The sweetness, the sting,

the ghost of her hand on my skin.

The memory refuses to fade,

and maybe…

a part of me doesn’t want it to.