emi

a 21 year old girl who writes, loves love, and looks for perfection in imperfection

[softmarchdreams]

being the third

meant learning

how to be enough

without asking for more

and still

never feeling like i was

[softmarchdreams]

i think i carry a sad soul.

not the loud kind of sadness,

not the kind that breaks things —

but the quiet one

that lingers in everything.

in the way i love too deeply,

in the way i stay a little too long,

in the way i feel everything

just a little more than i should.

it’s a softness

that never learned how to protect itself.

a heaviness

i don’t always know how to name.

i think my soul was made this way —

to find beauty in ache,

and to carry it

like it belongs to me.

[softmarchdreams]

i feel like a map

with no destination marked,

just endless roads

and no place that feels like mine.

i keep searching for a future

that doesn’t blur at the edges,

for a version of myself

that finally makes sense.

but everything inside me

feels unfinished,

like a sentence

that was never meant to end this way.

and sometimes i look at my parents

and wonder

if i became a question

they don’t know how to answer.

i am trying,

i really am —

but some days

i feel like i am only getting more lost.

[softmarchdreams]

loving you

is an art of patience —

of tracing constellations

across your skin

and calling them ours.

[softmarchdreams]

maybe in another life

we were meant to stay.

and maybe that is why

this one hurts so much.

[softmarchdreams]

i keep grieving

someone who is still alive

somewhere

just not with me.

[softmarchdreams]

no matter how much or how often people hurt each other, loving someone is never a waste.

[softmarchdreams]

we are made of different shades of green.

you are the green of the forest after rain,

deep, dark, and endlessly alive,

the kind that hides quiet mysteries

between leaves and shadows.

i am the green of early spring,

soft and trembling,

the first fragile bloom

reaching toward light.

your eyes carry the color of places

i could get lost in forever.

a green so still

it feels like peace,

and so deep

it feels like longing.

sometimes i think love looks like this —

my restless heart

finding a home

in the calm of your gaze.

and when you look at me,

it feels as if the whole world

turns softer around us.

maybe that is what being loved is:

not losing yourself,

but blooming

in someone else’s light.

[softmarchdreams]

the air is getting warmer

and the city is slowly turning green again

flowers opening on quiet streets

sunlight staying a little longer on the walls

everything is beginning again

everything except us

spring keeps coming back

like it always does

but you don’t

[softmarchdreams]

i think i’m beginning to fall for you.

slowly, quietly — like spring returning.

for your green eyes,

for the dark curls that fall into them,

for the soft way your smile appears

when you don’t even notice it.

something in me is changing.

a quicker heartbeat,

a warmth i didn’t expect,

the quiet beginning of something new.

so if this is the start of an adventure,

if this is where my heart begins to lean toward you —

please,

be gentle with my heart and my soul.

please.

[softmarchdreams]

there’s a quiet part of me that wishes time would slow down.

that the people i love would stay exactly as they are,

that laughter would echo the same way forever.

sometimes i still feel too young for the weight of everything.

too soft for the sharp edges of the world.

i’m not sure when we’re supposed to feel ready.

i’m not sure anyone ever truly is.

but days keep moving.

seasons keep changing.

and whether i’m afraid or not,

life keeps asking me to grow.

maybe growing up isn’t about being ready.

maybe it’s about learning

that change doesn’t always mean loss —

sometimes it means becoming.

[softmarchdreams]

i can carry myself just fine.

i just don’t know how to carry

the memory of you

being real.

[softmarchdreams]

i let my body be seen, again and again,

thinking that maybe this time,

if i gave enough of myself,

someone would finally choose to love me.

[softmarchdreams]

your name has lost its ache.

it lives softly in my mouth.

your face is only a memory now.

i survived the loving.

i survived the leaving.

yet sometimes —

i still wonder how you are.

[softmarchdreams]

enough to be touched.

enough to be kissed without obligation.

enough to be held without promise.

enough to flirt with, to sleep beside.

but never enough to be loved.

[softmarchdreams]

kisses beneath the willow trees.

your hands resting on my hips.

shining eyes, smudged lipstick, quiet promises.

i dream about it every night.

i dream about you.

[softmarchdreams]

i loved you in the quiet parts of the city.

in borrowed moments, soft goodbyes,

and streets that never asked us to stay.

maybe we were only meant

to almost make it —

to be a memory that hurts gently,

like a place you still dream about

but never return to.