we used to be
a language no one else spoke
half-finished sentences
and knowing glances
that stitched the silence shut
we used to be
hands finding hands in the dark
like it was instinct
like the night was only a curtain
and not a distance
back then
laughter lived easy in our mouths
and the future felt small enough
to hold between us
something we could fold
and tuck into a back pocket
now memory does the touching
and I trace the outline
of who we were
like a scar that doesn’t ache
but never disappears
we used to be fire
without thinking of ash
Tag Archives: creative-writing
Be my Valentine
Happy Valentine’s Day, not just to the couples posting their sweetest moments, but to everyone navigating love in their own quiet way.
Today doesn’t have to be about grand gestures or perfect plans. It can simply be about appreciation. About pausing long enough to say thank you to the people who show up for you, who listen when you’re overwhelmed, who celebrate your small wins, who sit beside you in silence when words aren’t enough.
Love isn’t only candlelit dinners and roses. It’s checking in. It’s forgiveness. It’s an effort. It’s choosing patience when it would be easier to walk away. It’s the courage to be vulnerable. It’s the strength to stay soft in a world that often teaches us to harden.
And if you’re single, healing, heartbroken, or somewhere in between, this day still belongs to you. Love isn’t reserved for those in relationships. It exists in friendships, in family, in community, and maybe most importantly, in the relationship you’re building with yourself.
So today, I hope you feel valued. I hope you give love freely and receive it openly. I hope you remember that love isn’t measured by one day, it’s built in a thousand ordinary moments.
Happy Valentine’s Day. However it looks for you, may it feel real.
❤️ Jennifer ❤️
Daydreaming
I drift where time forgets me
clouds turn into wandering ships
and the world whispers softly
while I gather moments of maybe
You are magic
you are magic
not the kind you hold in your hands
but the kind that lives under your skin
breathing in sync with your heartbeat
it coils in your bones
ripples through your fingertips
and spills from your eyes
before you even know it’s there
you do not have to try
you do not have to prove
the world bends
toward your quiet gravity
because your presence is a song
that hums itself
into every empty corner
you are the sudden warmth
on a cold day
the pulse beneath someone’s longing
the impossible light
that refuses to be tamed
and when you laugh
when you love
when you simply are
the magic inside you
touches everything
Pieces of her
she had to build herself
from pieces scattered like glass
edges sharp and jagged
cutting the hands
that tried to hold her
she learned to gather them
one by one
pressing cracks into patterns
turning breaks into bridges
pain into architecture
her reflection is a mosaic
not whole in the way
the world expects
but whole in the way she chose
stronger in the places
that once bled
beautiful in the places
that were broken
After you
I thought love would leave
like a door closing
one last final click
instead it stayed
as a draft in the house of my chest
moving things when I wasn’t looking
your name became a season
I didn’t know how to dress for
every song was too thin
every silence too loud
I learned the weight of minutes
by how long it took
not to call you
grief is strange
it doesn’t break you in half
it teaches you how to carry
a whole missing person
without dropping anything else
and some nights
when the world is very still
I swear I feel my heart
reach for what used to be there
like a hand still clutching shadows
it cannot hold anymore
Some days
some days
the mind is a house
with flickering lights
rooms you avoid
because they echo too loudly
you smile in the doorway
tell others you’re fine
while the ceiling drips
old fears you never fixed
thoughts pace
like restless ghosts at 3 a.m.
rattling memories
that refuse to be ignored
you learn that strength
is not the armor you wear
but the calm you hold
when no one is watching
healing isn’t a sunrise
that sweeps away the night
it’s learning the dark has furniture
you bruise
you rest
you try again tomorrow
some nights
the darkness loosens its grip
not to vanish
just enough to let you breathe
you don’t defeat the quiet
you live with it
and that
somehow
is light
Rewritten
we move through each other
like tides reshaping the shore
every curve and hollow
a sentence
every sigh a punctuation
in the quiet grammar of touch
time slows
and we exist in the tremor
between breath and heartbeat
between wanting and surrender
fingers trace the landscapes of skin
like cartographers of desire
learning the secret geography
following a hidden path
there is a language here
no word can capture
no silence can still
only the rhythm of two bodies
speaking in pulses and pauses
in glances in whispers
in the flutter of letting go
and when it ends
we are not separate
we are a map rewritten
a song unfinished
a moment held
between earth and sky
between you and me
Leave me now
leave me now
before the light learns our names
before the walls memorize your breath
go while goodbye is still a door
and not a wound
while silence can pass for mercy
leave me now
while your absence is still honest
before it sharpens into regret
I can survive the clean cut of an ending
but not the slow ache of almost
don’t stay long enough
to turn memory cruel
or teach my hands to reach
for what won’t return
leave me now
not because I am empty
but because I am full of what we were
and there is no room left
for you to fade gently
Her eyes
her dark eyes carry the weight
of stories never told aloud
they are deep wells of knowing
reflecting both the tenderness
she gives freely
and the ache she keeps hidden
they hold the hush
of midnight rooms
and the echo of emotions
that learned to survive
without language
in them lives a patience
shaped by longing
a softness that’s guarded
by storms already weathered
her eyes do not ask
to be understood
they ask to be felt
and once they are they linger
long after the moment has passed
The Creative Chic 