you were my sun once.
not in warmth, but in gravity—
i spun around you in unbroken orbit,
the kind that feels eternal,
until it isn't.

when did our bond,
become a photograph?
flat, smiling, static.
untouched by time.

i still reach for you.
a fan applauding from the dark—
more audience than participant,
praying for my name in the credits.

do i love you?
do i hate you?

do
i
𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘀𝘁
outside
of
you?

i want to go back.
to when your touch was gravity—
and not a tether.