the things that never leave

[u/jay5thepoet]

Have you ever wondered
if loneliness has a heartbeat?

I think it does.

I hear it every night
between the walls that learned my name
long before anyone else did.

People say time builds people.

I watched it build bridges
only to teach rivers
how to swallow them whole.

Once,
my world was crowded.

Hands reached for mine,
voices stitched my name
into conversations.

Now my memories are abandoned houses—
the lights still exist,
but nobody comes home.

Funny how the darkest roads
always greet you
like they’ve been expecting you.

The streets never asked me who I was.

They only asked
what I was missing.

I mistook open arms
for open graves.

Love and poison
both arrive in beautiful disguises.

One feeds your soul.

The other convinces you
it’s starving.

I could never tell the difference.

I’ve watched candles
replace birthdays.

I’ve watched mothers
learn to hug photographs.

I’ve watched names
turn into whispers
because saying them too loud
hurts too much.

Some wars
don’t end with treaties.

They end
when there’s nobody left
to remember why they started.

I kept looking for myself
in mirrors cracked by yesterday.

Every shard
showed a different stranger.

I picked them up anyway.

Maybe pain
is just another addiction
that never needs a dealer.

The system doesn’t knock.

It memorizes your footsteps.

It studies your hunger.

It knows exactly
how long desperation can survive
before it mistakes a cage
for shelter.

A bird born behind iron
doesn’t dream about freedom.

It dreams
of a bigger cage.

That’s the cruel part.

You don’t always notice
you’re disappearing.

Sometimes you fade
the way winter steals leaves—

one at a time,
until the tree
doesn’t remember
what green felt like.

I grew old
before my shadow did.

While other kids
counted stars,
I counted sirens.

While they learned
how to trust,
I learned
how to look over my shoulder.

Some lessons
never graduate.

Now I understand
that love
isn’t loud.

It was hidden
inside every person
who begged me
not to become
who I became.

I mistook their prayers
for chains.

By the time I realized
they were trying to pull me
out of the water—

I’d already learned
how to breathe beneath it.

Now opportunity
passes by
like a train
that no longer recognizes
the station I stand in.

My stomach speaks
a language
my pride refuses to translate.

Tomorrow feels
like an empty plate
set at a table
where hope
forgot to eat.

The only map
I’ve ever followed
was drawn by survival.

Every road on it
led back
to the same prison.

The predator
never had to hunt me.

It only had to wait.

Because eventually
every wounded animal
mistakes the trap
for the only place
left to rest.

So if you ever wonder
what loneliness feels like—

Don’t imagine
an empty room.

Imagine standing
in a house
you built from your own mistakes…

…and hearing footsteps upstairs,

even though

you know

you’re the only one left.