lowkey jealous that they breathe the same air you do, hear your laugh without a pixel in view. while i sit here, screen-lit and still, chasing your presence through glass and will. they pass you by, unaware what they’ve got, while i replay moments that i never forgot. every word from you feels like gold, yet slips through my fingers, too far to hold. distance mocks me in silent grace, between my heart and your fleeting face. still i stay, foolish, maybe true, haunted and healed by the thought of you. ~shreeraj