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Midnight confessions

At midnight hearts begin to speak, The strong grow fragile, lost, and weak. The silence opens every door, To hidden truths we can’t ignore. Midnight confessions softly fall, Like shadows dancing on the wall. The words we hide through all the day, Find moonlit courage on their way. “I miss you” sounds much more sincere, When only stars are left to hear. And broken souls stop wearing masks, Beneath the night that never asks. Perhaps the dark was always kind, A place where truth could breathe and shine. For hearts speak loudest after scars, In whispered talks beneath the stars.
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Lost memories

Sometimes, I still think about you — not every day, not like before, but in quiet moments when the world slows down. A song, a scent, a street that reminds me of a time when we walked side by side. You’re a memory now, but not a distant one.

I don’t know if you ever think of me, or if you’ve tucked those days away for good. But for me, they linger — not in pain, but in warmth. We were never perfect, but we were something real. And I think that matters.

I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted you to know that you were loved, even in the silences that came after. And a part of me always will hold that piece of time close, like a pressed flower in a forgotten book.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re happy.

With quiet love,
Me


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