I found a note in my pocket

Didn’t write it, didn’t read it

But somehow, it smelled like you

Like late-night coffee, second chances

You walk backwards into my dreams

Like a thief, like a ghost

Like a song I used to hum

But never knew the words to

Oh, you— You’re the runaway heart

The lost map, the missed train

I keep chasing but never catch

Oh, you— You’re the stray heart

That never really left

We dance in sentences unfinished

Comma, ellipsis, a sigh between words

Your shadow lingers on my walls

Like an echo too stubborn to fade

Maybe love is just misplaced time

Maybe we are two pages torn

Folded into paper planes

Flying in opposite winds

And still, somehow—

Your name feels like home

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Lyrical Creation: © 2025 NoOne

All Rights Reserved | Copyright ©2025 NoOne

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✨Echoes of the Song in Another Form✨

"The bus arrived. She didn’t get on. Neither did he. "

He waited for the bus at a quiet stop deep into the night. The wind was crisp, the streetlights flickered. She stood near the convenience store entrance, staring at the lighter in her hand.

"Got a light?" She walked over. "Huh?" He blinked. "I don’t smoke." She smiled. "Me neither."

Silence stretched between them. Then she looked up at the sky. "Sometimes, I need fire just to remind myself I’m still alive."

He reached into his pocket and handed her a hand warmer. "This counts as fire, right?"

She took it, pressed it gently between her fingers, then smiled. "You’re strange." He wanted to say, "You are too." But he only nodded.

The bus arrived. She didn’t get on. Neither did he. Two strangers, lingering in a moment they never planned.