𝔭𝔬𝔢𝔪𝔰

I miss the way his voice once wrapped around me, gentle, soft, a secret meant only for my ears.

I miss his smile- bright enough to quiet every storm within me.

I miss the way he’d send his face, insecure but brave, just to see my own reflection back in love.

I miss the tenderness in his eyes the night he held me close, as if I were the most fragile, the most precious thing he had ever touched.

I miss the press of his lips, the clumsy sweetness of that grin- the one I thought would never fade.

I would give anything to return there. I would risk everything, even if it meant losing myself, just to see his smile again- that smile, like a child unwrapping Christmas morning.

And now it burns, a hollow ache sharper than before, to know it’s gone, to know no battle I fight can bring it back.

He will never feel that spark again. But I still carry it, a flame that refuses to die.