I don’t want forever,
I want near.
Your breath against mine,
your name caught in the quiet
between heartbeats.
I want your arms
like a place I never had,
a shelter that doesn’t ask questions,
a moment that doesn’t demand tomorrow.
We both know what this is.
A line already crossed,
a future already fractured,
a story that forgets how to end well.
But when you pull me closer,
none of that exists.
There is no wrong,
no consequence,
no distant unraveling,
just skin and silence
and the dangerous comfort of being held.
In your arms,
everything feels complete,
like the world finally stops asking for more
than I have to give.
And maybe that’s the problem.
Because outside of this
we are mismatched pieces,
forced edges,
a truth we keep avoiding
until it presses too hard to ignore.
I know this won’t last.
I know we are building something
that time will take apart.
But knowing
and feeling
have never been the same thing.
So I stay,
just a little longer,
just one more moment
pretending this is enough
to quiet the part of me
that knows
it never will be.