we were a story
never meant for pages—
whispers in shadows,
a love wrapped in silence.
he told me,
"you are the love of my life,"
and it hurt more than it healed—
because even truth,
when it has no future,
feels like a lie.
we made promises
like children building castles
on the edge of waves—
knowing the sea
would always come.
i counted the stars
on nights we weren’t allowed to exist,
praying the sky
could hold what the world couldn’t.
he said,
"maybe in another life."
but i was alive now.
and so was he.
and we still weren't allowed
to be real.
what do you call love
that dares to bloom
in a place that rips it from the root?
you call it forbidden.
you call it fate.
i call it mine.
and then i let it go.
~nishii
