To the one who left-but never truly did.
You visit me in silence,
in shadows,
in the aching spaces between sleep and morning.
I don't see you,
but I feel you-
in the cold air,
in the way the night holds my name like you used to.
You're not a memory.
You're a haunting.
And maybe I don't want to be free of you.
Because if being haunted means remembering you,
then I hope you never stop coming back.
Even as a ghost-
you are still the love I'd choose,
every time.
YOU ARE READING
Multo | PondPhuwin
RomanceIn another life, they loved freely. In this one, they loved quietly. He fell first-a boy with quiet eyes and a saving hand. He held on through years, scripts, scenes, and silence. The world watched them fall in love on camera. But behind the scenes...
