You Exist Between My Lines

You Exist Between My Lines

Arman Rashid

I write your name in the spaces of my thoughts,

between words that never reach you.

Each sentence trembles with quiet longing,

and my pen carries the weight of unsaid things.

Your voice lingers in the pauses,

soft echoes between the letters.

I trace your shadow in the margins,

feeling you even when you are gone.

Sometimes I pause and wonder

if you feel me here,

in the corners of my sentences,

where only silence answers.

I write of moments that never happened,

of laughter we never shared.

My pages are filled with invisible footprints,

tracing the path you left behind.

The ink dries slowly, like memories,

and the paper remembers what I forget.

I fold my thoughts into quiet prayers,

hoping they reach your eyes someday.

Every line is a bridge to you,

fragile, trembling, yet strong enough

to hold the weight of all I cannot say.

I keep writing, even in the dark.

Even when the world moves on without us,

I find you between the margins of my heart.

No word can fully capture your presence,

yet I keep trying, line after line.

And at the end of every page,

I discover: you have always existed here.