Years

All those years ago, we didn't need the rest of the world.
We had our own rhythm, our own quiet language,
and a kind of gravity that pulled us together when everything else spun out.
I can still feel the exact temperature of those nights,
the way your breath felt against my skin before the years piled up between us,
back when we were fierce, untouched, and entirely ours.

You can pretend time has erased the blueprint of us,
but you and I both know some roots grow too deep to dig out.
I want you to look back at that version of me from all those years ago—
the one who knew every hidden corner of your soul—
and feel a sudden, crushing wave of yearning for the only person
who ever truly saw through your chaos and held you whole.

Let that memory haunt the quiet edges of your mind tonight.
Let it make you ache for the warmth we had before the world got heavy,
until you’re staring into the dark, wishing you could crawl backward through time
just to feel the way I loved you first.