The Corner I Never Unfold
I survived the year by learning how to disappear.
My first New Year without you passed like a threat.
No countdown, no champagne, no “next year will be better,”
Just me staring at the ceiling, bargaining with regret.
My birthday showed up empty, a chair pulled out in vain,
Cake candles burning quietly, ashamed of their flame.
I forgot how to speak, how to walk, how to be,
Three months without a word because you were language to me.
How do you talk when your everything’s gone?
When your second half leaves and the world still goes on?
You were my braincell, my logic, my joke,
Now every thought chokes halfway out of my throat.
I still call her Mom and she still calls me too.
My little Angel grew up in the space meant for you.
She’s a princess now, soft hands, steady eyes,
She asks why heaven doesn’t ever say hi.
She misses you. God, we all fucking do.
You were the family that I finally knew.
It’s quiet in ways that don’t feel real,
Like the house itself learned how to kneel.
I didn’t bake the cookies. I just couldn’t bear the smell.
You loved them too much. That should be illegal as hell.
You’d grin with crumbs like the world wasn’t cruel,
Like joy was a rule you could break when you chose.
Here’s the grief they don’t warn your heart about:
I’ll miss you far longer than I loved you, no doubt.
But loving you never needed more time to grow,
It just changed into missing and refused to let go.
We played guitar till our fingers went numb,
Let songs say the things we were scared to become.
Burned dinner laughing, danced barefoot and slow,
Like time was polite enough to not let us know.
Ice cream bites stolen, “just one” turning five,
Windows down, dumb music, feeling alive.
You’d say, “We should go home,” then drive one more loop,
Because silence with me felt better with you.
Park swings at midnight, chains cold on our hands,
Laughing till my stomach hurt, like this wasn’t unplanned.
Random nothing days that meant more than gold,
And the hugs I miss most were the ones that hold.
The sky betrayed me the moment you left.
Stars rearranged themselves into what’s left.
People say “they’re watching” like that’s a relief,
But knowing you’re up there just deepens the grief.
I leave voice notes daily like you’re still mine,
Explaining my day like you didn’t die.
I talk to the air. I wait for the ping.
Grief is the only proof I had anything.
Maybe if I held you longer you’d still be here.
Maybe love was loud and I wasn’t clear.
That thought gnaws holes clean through my chest,
A what-if shaped bruise that never rests.
The sun still rises. The audacity.
The moon still shines like it didn’t abandon me.
Rain keeps falling. People keep moving.
I can’t get out of bed, but the world keeps proving
That life doesn’t stop for shattered things,
It just steps over them and clips its wings.
They think I’m still here, still breathing, still fine,
But I was buried with you a long, long time.
I walk and I talk like I made it through,
But everything living in me stayed with you.
You didn’t reach the last page, didn’t see how I’d grow,
But your corner’s still folded. It’s my favourite, you know.
Some loves don’t end clean, they just change their hue,
Now I’m buried in memories… and they all lead to you.
