If ever he wonders, tell him I still here
the slam of that door, feel the salt of that tear.
I left my perfume on his old sweater,
so my scent would cling to him forever.
Tell him some nights I still whisper his name
like a prayer unraveling in flickering flame.
I swore we’d never end — believed every word —
till the promise turned poison, too late to be cured.
I know he speaks to my shadow for days,
I feel every echo slice through like a blade.
Every woman he touches, I hope feels like theft,
a wrong turn that drags him through the wreckage I left.
Tell him I flinch at the thought of his lips,
at rain on the glass and slow-dying eclipse.
I dream of his face at the wedding I chose,
then wake with a chest full of guilt that won’t close.
New cities, new fire, new life to begin,
empty letters never sent, still reeking of sin.
Therapy whispered “let go,” whiskey begged 'to stay,"
but nothing could rinse all the memories away.
Tell him the woman who once called him home
now sleeps where our laughter has hardened to stone.
I carved out his name where the skin meets bone,
pushed so deep it could never be known.
If he asks what still haunts me when midnight draws near,
don’t speak of his love — just spell out my fear.
Let regret settle slow like a bruise that won’t fade,
a wound that keeps blooming from choices I made.
Tell him I wait, not for him to return,
but for the girl I once buried to finish her burn.
I sleep with his ghost and die just a bit
every dawn that reminds me of all I quit.