The last and she

It’s the last day of high school.

The halls hum with voices, footsteps, and farewells, but I am motionless—

held in place, as the world rushes past me.

There she is, just a little distance away—

not close enough to reach, but near enough that I can see her clearly,

catch every nuance of her smile, every note of her laughter.

She’s within sight, yet somehow, it feels like she’s miles away,

a distance that exists not in space, but in everything that separates us.

Her laughter—

I’ve memorized its rise and fall, a melody I’ll never forget.

And her smile—it’s radiant,

lighting up her face, a warmth she doesn’t even know she gives.

Does she know?

How her presence shifts the air, how her beauty isn’t just seen but felt?

No. She probably doesn’t.

Does she know how often my eyes have found her in crowded rooms?

I’ve watched her so many times.

The way her eyes spark when she talks about something that truly matters to her,

as if the whole world narrows down to just that one moment.

But she’s surrounded by friends, by laughter, by everything she needs.

And me?

I’m just a face in the crowd, a shadow she’ll never notice.

I’m standing here, knowing it’s the last day of school—

the last time I’ll see her in these familiar hallways,

The last time I’ll be this close to a dream I can’t touch,

yet far enough to know it never will.

But still, I stand here,

hoping that somehow,

in some small way,

I’ve mattered to her.

My Spotify crashed

All the Hindi Bollywood playlist i made for her 

I could hear all those songs at once, smashing down at once. 

I wish I could go back to time and just let her know

how beautiful she looks when she smiles

and how her smile always make me smile.

Maybe not from here but

you are such artwork I could admire forever and ever after.