Some moments stay,
even when the people don't.
Some feelings echo,
even when no one’s there to hear.
How do we miss
a face we never held?
How do we ache
for hands we never felt?
You walk away thinking
you’re doing the right thing.
You smile,
you nod,
you say,
“This is how it should be.”
But your chest tells
another version
when it gets quiet.
Not everything has a name.
Not everything needs one.
But some things,
even unnamed,
still hurt a little
when they go.
Now, there’s a space
where something used to be
not a name,
not a person,
just a feeling
that looked a lot like home.
And maybe,
just maybe,
some places feel like home
only because
we forgot how to feel lost
when we were there.
Weird, isn’t it?
How something can feel like yours
even when it never was.
In the end, some people
don’t stay,
and yet
they never fully go.
