Poems

Echo of us
It’s strange,
the way you felt familiar
before I ever had the chance
to know you.

Like I skipped the beginning
and landed somewhere in the middle—
like my soul recognized yours
before my life could explain it.

Maybe that’s why
everything about you felt heavier
than it should have.

The way you talk—
that accent I didn’t expect
to linger in my thoughts
the way it does.

The way you said bagel
like it belonged to a different word
I almost got to live in
like even the smallest things about you
were just slightly out of reach,
just enough to stay with me.

And I keep thinking
how strange it is—
we were both born on 4/4,
exactly four years apart,
like time tried to line us up
and still missed us.

Like we were meant to meet,
just not meant to have it.

Because we didn’t.
Not really.

Just quiet moments,
longer conversations,
a feeling that went too deep
for something that had nowhere to go.

And it’s hard to explain,
but just talking to you…
something in me ignites—
like my soul remembers
what it feels like to be alive.

Sometimes I wonder where you are,
if you’re looking up too—
at the same stars,
feeling this in a different sky.

And still—
a part of me wonders
if we already had our chance
in another lifetime…

and this was just
the echo of it.