Skip to content
  • About
August 31, 2026

Forgetful

I still save things to tell you

I wake forgetting your warmth
isn’t beside me

I walk through the door
and look for you

It’s like my being hasn’t been told
reality is different

If only these walls could speak

Between the Lines © 2026

Share this:

  • Share
  • Share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
  • Share on Telegram (Opens in new window) Telegram
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
  • Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp
  • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
  • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
Like Loading…

betweenthelines
reflections, poetry
grief, empty, forgetful, reality
Previous: Hobby

Leave a comment Cancel reply

Instagram / TikTok / X

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Comment
  • Reblog
  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Between the Lines
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Between the Lines
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Copy shortlink
    • Report this content
    • View post in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
%d