In the Quiet of Kyoto

In the heart of Kyoto, at 4:30 at night, I pen down memories, caught in this quiet light. A friend she was, or maybe more, Our bond began on a train, an online rapport. We shared notes, words flowing free, Conversations deep, lasting till three. She became dear, in a way I couldn’t see, Until one day, something changed in me. I saw her with someone, and words went astray, Anger took hold, and I pushed her away. Then silence fell, her replies no more, I wonder now what we were before. I poured my heart out in one last text, But to her, it seemed, it mattered less. She sees my words, leaves them behind, I’m stuck in a past, she’s no longer confined. I can’t block her, nor delete her name, Her absence lingers, a quiet, haunting flame. Though we didn’t talk much, she’s hard to forget, In this distant journey, I’m filled with regret. Another year will pass, and I’ll still roam, But without her, it’s just not home. In Kyoto’s night, with thoughts of her near, I write this poem, shedding a tear.