CLAIMED, NOT CHOSEN

Like a bookmark

left between pages—

held close,

but never part of the story.

Like a favorite song

played in private,

but never shared out loud.

Like a place one returns to

for warmth,

but never calls home.

There is a kind of love

that reaches, holds, remembers—

yet never decides.

It feels like belonging,

until the world moves on

without making space.

Because claiming

lives in moments.

Choosing

builds a life.

And anything that cannot stand

in the daylight of a decision

was never meant to stay.

Not every hand that holds

is meant to keep.

Not every love that feels deep

is meant to remain.

Some connections are only

meant to be felt—

not followed.

And the quietest power of all?

Walking away

without asking to be chosen.