“These days my bones are shifting, trembled things. I am more earthquake than anything.”

And again my mind runs to you in the way that rivers can’t help but return to the salt.

There are pieces of you in all the things you have loved. This is how we live forever.

I have never known what happiness really means, but I’m sure it sounds a lot like your name.

Everything I know of love is told in the bruises we left on each other.

I’m sorry for being this hard to love.

I know you will take the last of me and I will love you anyway.

I am a child of autumn: At home amongst things that only know of falling.

I knew I loved you before I understood what that meant.

All I really know is whatever the cost you’re worth it.

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.