“Please don’t let me sleep. I’ll only dream of her.”

I spent a lifetime building shrine to things that can’t love me back. (music, poetry, you)

My body has always been a stranger. And it aches in a language I don’t understand.

And again I wake up hoping today is the day I don’t miss you.

I don’t know how else to say it. I will love you for the rest of my life.

Of all the people I’ve been the man you loved is the only one I miss.

Maybe letting go isn’t all that different to loving you.

I swear my bones can feel it whenever you speak my name.

What a gentle curse: to still want you after all we’ve been.

She spoke with so much hope, the future dancing on her lips like a flame.

Her smile is an open flame and I have a paper heart.

It was always you who felt like water when my whole body was a flame.

Just because the pain is comfortable doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

Some days survival is all the living I can do.

There’s a weight to it, this missing you.

Her heart is heavy and ruined with hope.

Maybe I hold onto pain because I don’t know who I am without it.

The goodbyes seem so untouchable yet causing impossible hopeless scars.

The only fire that was left in us, was the one I never lit up within myself.

I’m not going anywhere. I hope. It’s been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you.

Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.

I said “I need a love that won’t break me” while still choosing from broken boys-self-destruction.

Slowly, you turned away. Slowly, I collapsed.

We tried to rhyme you and me parallels as in sky and sea timeless we were but lifetime apart but you’re still right here within my heart.