Lie to me now

Lie that you remember my presence,
how it stayed with you
after I was gone,
how your thoughts moved slower
because I had passed through them.

Lie that sometimes,
without warning,
your mind drifts toward me
in the quiet spaces,
between one thought and the next,
between breaths.

Lie that a song catches you off guard
because it sounds like something
we never finished saying.
Lie that my name feels heavier
when the room is empty.

Lie that you wonder, just once,
what would have happened
if we had been braver,
or worse,
if we had been honest.

Lie that you miss
the almost.
The pause.
The edge of something real.

Because the truth
that I leave no trace at all
is colder than any lie
you could offer me.