Lyric

March… the seventh

Same day again

I’ll leave it here…

Just for me

March seventh

In a space I barely knew

I saw your smile

For the very first time

The wind behind the glass

Was still so cold

Your name—

I didn’t even know it yet

But I wrote it down

Over and over

Hoping it’d feel real, someday

Letting each letter settle slowly

A simple moment—

Why does it

Stay so long?

I pretend not to notice

But on the way back home

My steps get quicker

Today I felt

Just a little closer to love

I didn’t speak—

Not even one small word

I only walked

Right past you once

Nothing more

Still my heartbeat kept

Repeating your name

Again and again

March seventh

That place we always lingered—

It became a shelf

Where our days quietly lived

The breath inside the songs

We used to share

The line where shadows crossed

And light slid past your hair

Even the smallest routines—

The seats we always chose

The way your jacket brushed mine—

Turned into little records

When I got home

Trying to picture

We didn’t need

Anything special

“Hey, how was today?”

Just that one line

Untied the weight

Of a long, long day

We were gently

Quietly happy

We didn’t need

A single photograph

When I close my eyes

Everything

Comes back

In the casual words

We traded

“love you”

Hid softly underneath

March seventh

The same road, the same space—

But this year

I stood there alone

Your voice patterns returned

In strangers passing by

Their phrasing brushing my ear

Like echoes from another life

I scrolled through old notes

You left in my phone

Letting each line breathe

Without deleting a thing—

As if keeping them still

Kept a version of us alive

But even then

The air felt different

Lighter somehow

As if the world was ready

To move without us

The world, somehow

Keeps turning

Like nothing happened

And somehow I

Still laugh

Still eat

Still breathe

Today I let go

Of the person

I used to be

Those scenes that

Won’t return—

I won’t try

To hold them anymore

Your name still

Circles once

Inside my mouth

Then fades away

By March eighth

Walking alone

Might feel okay