You in Every Chorus

lately,
I've been strangely happy—
just seeing glimpses of you
through your stories.

you're becoming
who you were always meant to be:
the happiest,
the coolest,
the healthiest, all at once,
and all without me.

you didn’t reply to my last message.
maybe it wasn’t worth replying.
maybe I’m not.
but still, I miss you
in ways I can’t explain,
in silences I try not to send again.

I don’t want to bother you anymore.
I’ve learned how to stay quiet
and just…watch.

watch your stories update,
watch your TikTok bloom.

Still,
just so you know,
I made a playlist about us.
It lives here, quietly

I don’t know
if you’ll ever read my poems.
but if you do,
you’ll find me
in every line
that never got to be said out loud.

Comments

safe love

when you find your people, the air feels lighter, your heart rests softer, and every smile is true. you don’t have to measure your words, or hold your laughter in your chest. even in silence, you’re understood, and love grows quietly, endlessly. but love is not a prison. if your wings feel clipped, if your light is dimmed, if you fear to shine, then listen to your heart, and think again.

Saturn

one night, the sky turned gold, and silence felt like gravity, soft, invisible, inescapable. it told me; this too is part of becoming. i used to think home had walls. now I know it’s what lingers, like rings around a quiet planet. so I carry Saturn in my skin, not to escape, but to stay grounded while I learn how to float.

a Different Kind of Poem

Not every poem wears the shape of love, some carry the weight of warmth unspoken, the echo of footsteps down quiet halls, the hush before dinner is served. Watched something last night, "1 Kakak 7 Ponakan", faces I didn’t know felt like mirrors. The way they laughed, argued, stayed, like they had nowhere else to be but with each other. It made me wonder, when was the last time I looked around and saw enough ? There are days this place feels too quiet. But maybe it’s not the silence that’s hollow, maybe I’ve just forgotten how full it really is. They say time spent is the only thing we never truly own. Some spend it on screens, some in rooms filled with laughter. Not everyone gets to choose. And me? I’ve been chasing loud things, forgetting that the softest hours, the ones spent doing nothing with people who’ve always been there, are the rarest kind. We search so far for what’s already sitting across the table.

unlimited words.

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