we exist in my imagination
on falling for and missing the idea of you.
your chocolate brown eyes
lock with my deep brown
as you say hello
from your usual spot
door five at the
train platform
i walk over to you
waist-deep in a trance
i can’t seem to shake
your presence is
calling my name
it takes all of me to
stop myself from
baring my soul
spilling my guts—
ruining what was
ours to have but
mine to lose
because you were only mine
in the depths of my
imagination—
my hand in yours
your eyes on me
not mine
not yours
but ours
my hands caressing your
fluffy black hair
your arm around
my shoulder
a dose of happiness
one call away
we cry
we fight
we sigh—
and find each other again
every single time
you let me into
your world
i go to your
squash games
just like every girl
who’s proud of her boy
study dates four
days a week
because my boy
needs to ace his
a levels
and i need my
director’s list
library
your place
or mine
i love to see you
in your element
you teach me
a little math
and i teach you
a little psych
we get surprised
at our overlaps in
normal distribution
break it down enough
for me to see
with your beautiful
handwriting
another proof of
your love
the look in your eyes
unwavering attention
as i showed you
the wonders of
my universe
you let out a
chuckle
saying i look
beautiful
talking about
my passions
and i’ll let you
into mine
bookstore dates
conversations that
never seem to end
over green tea and
my favourite
blueberry
bagels
you’ll buy me daisies
saying you’ve never met
someone like me
and ruin the moment with
stickers of the yellow circle
with a face and limbs
like you always do
take away my daisies
when i tell you i’m
allergic to pollen
surprising me with
a warm cup of
soybean milk
saying you'll replace
flowers with kisses
in the future
then you’ll ask
if i love you more
than those kpop boys
over chinese food
but dear boy
i think you already
know the answer
your voice shakes me
out of the daydream
i’ve had on loop
since my heart found
a home in yours
this is all wishful thinking
one-sided hopefulness
a losing game—
because after all
we only exist
in my imagination.
“because after all / we only exist / in my imagination.” Oof… ❤️🩹
Still lovely though!! <33
This is quietly beautiful xins.
Especially in the way the poem accumulates rather than declares.
The intimacy arrives through ordinary repetitions: platforms, study tables, food quirks, ruined moments, small jokes. That’s where it feels real, and equally tender.
What moved me most is that the boy isn’t polished into an idea. He interrupts, prods for reassurance, fidgets, breaks the mood — and is still held with affection. Not despite those moments, but including them. That choice carries so much emotional maturity.
The imagination here doesn’t feel like fantasy. It feels like rehearsal — a knowing of how you love, what you make space for, what you accept. Which is why the ending aches: it isn’t just about losing him, but about recognising a future that lived fully in you.
This reads as tenderness without demand.
Love without insistence.
And that restraint is what gives it weight.
Beautiful and more poems please!