Borrowed Time

Here’s one—tender, a little aching, and very in-the-moment:

Borrowed Time

I love you like I’m already bracing
for the sound of goodbye.
Every laugh feels borrowed,
every silence, a warning.

Instead of holding your hand,
I count the ways it could slip from mine.
Instead of now,
I live in what if.

I memorize you like you’re leaving—
your voice, your habits,
the way you stay—
and somehow miss you
while you’re still here.

I wish I knew how to love
without guarding my heart like a door
someone’s always knocking on.

Maybe one day I’ll learn
that losing you isn’t happening yet,
and this moment—
this breath, this us—
deserves all of me.