But it's gonna be alright, I did my time.
Feb 10, 2026

Laying my head on my pillow wishing it could store all my heavy thoughts,
I’m hating my subconscious because it still makes me dream of you,
‘Cause every time I close my eyes I still see yours in the back of my mind.
Midnights found me awake on the verge of crying when someone asks me how I am
Sleepless nights swirling you into my poems and thoughts,
Tangled vocal cords with chained knots from my larynx to my guts
No fallen angel, nothing could ease my troubled mind on a friday night,
Flashing pageant smiles from that saturday sunrise
until the regrets and melancholia that serenaded my sundays sighs…
Do you search for my face in a crowd full of strangers while your mind causes a fuss?
Do you hear our soundtrack and still think fondly about us?
Do you smell the sweet scent of good memories brought by the summer breeze?
Do you taste sophisticated white wine and yearn for our future potentials like I did?
Do you touch your soft sheets and let your wishful thinking summon me?
Are your senses awakened by the reminiscences of everything in between?
I hope your days are haunted by all our 'what-ifs',
Your guitar weeping in your ear because in the good in the world you once believed in me,
Sad songs, empty streets, the ballad of what could’ve been,
You really left a permanent mark on me
and fired off your demolishing missiles at me.
You showed me all your dreams, goals, scars and fears,
then you ran away because vulnerability doesn’t fit your skin,
I could exorcise your demons and bring you peace
but you are scared of trading our weaknesses and getting stabbed in the back
You knew, but never believed that I could die for the two of us
Why loving you resembles to be the worst crime I could've done?
I've left lovers haunted because at every table I saved you a seat,
I hope your treacherous mind pictures you back laughing like a child, singing me lullabies
Because you were the one who packed up all those youthful sounds.
When all your reign is closed at night and no one's calling at your door,
do you sit on the floor and miss me through some of our songs?
I hope anytime you’ll get drowned in the coffee cups of my eyes
I hope you’ll keep fantasising about tracing constellations on my polka dot skin
I hope you’ll regret leaving my romanticism into the bin
I was so goddamn in love til you boiled my blood,
Passion and rage perfect opposites of the same coin
Changed my flaws, decoded your silences, gave you all my endless empathy
Consider you until all I could do was consider me...
My love’s like a burning reddish flare reaching to your bones
At least it would be fair that all my loving is a curse to you
Was our future so bright that the incandescent light made you run?
Honestly, I’d rather stare directly to a solar eclipse than losing you anew
And I can’t loathe you, that’s the worse part
Am I condemned to love you forevermore?
Because when everything is empty, your signs pop up out of nowhere
It’s driving me mad, 'cause it makes me want you to come back.
If I had a petal for every chance I thought of you,
I could walk through my garden forever
but all of a sudden it turned out to be only poisonous yellow flowers.
Have you ever felt anything at all?
Was I really something you ever dreamt?
‘Cause I loved you ridiculously til the day that I left,
Had you in my hands til your hourglass run out of time,
My bright eyes washed and faded themselves into sepia range,
Despite each of my apologies, explanations, options and illusions, the ones you stepped on and I can't forget,
In my dreams, we still bet for some fresh start.
I used to be addicted to faking smiles and saying I’m alright
Now I go feral and purge anguish sentiments just to begin again during pink auroras,
I used to pray to the stars that there’s still a chance for us,
because I swear to our Lord that I truly loved you
And you may think I moved on,
but sailing through luxury landscapes made me see
that none of them resembled to how our love made me feel.
Now I hereby pronounce the saving of all my loving to myself, and let my slow-beating aching heart heal.

Pampa Gallagher
if guys don’t want me to write bad poems about them, then… they shouldn’t do bad things!
Our picks
Become a supporter of quaderno
Support this independent project and get exclusive benefits.
Start writing today on quaderno
We value quality, authenticity and diversity of voices.
Comments
There are no comments yet, be the first!
You must be logged in to comment
Log in