grief
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I still save things to tell you I wake forgetting your warmthisn’t beside me I walk through the doorand look for you It’s like my being hasn’t been toldreality is different If only these walls could speak Between the Lines © 2026
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When the sun is swallowed by sorrow a flower surrenders her bloom – loneliness becomes the earth and time has disappeared There is no movement, only grief’s scent lingering in her lungs Between the Lines © 2026
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“I miss you” sounds simple — almost commonplace, mundane. But between the lines live galaxies of quiet achements. I miss your scent in the air, your lips, your laughter, your touch, your voice. I miss my hand in yours, feeling safe, the quiet pride of walking next to you. I miss shared meals, soft kisses,…
Between the Lines 