Prayer is love that lives inside,
A quiet hope we cannot hide.
It’s the deepest kind of care,
A gentle gift sent through the air.

The most precious thing we share,
A way to show how much we care
For every soul we hold so near,
With silent wishes whispered clear.

I say stuff you never hear,
Chasing things that disappeared.
People tell me, “Move on, dude,”
But my heart’s stuck—it’s kinda rude.

This poem’s messy, kinda real,
Just like how I always feel.
Not perfect, but it’s all I’ve got—
A little truth, a lot of thought.

I wrote so many poems,
I thought they were just words.
But every line was really you—
Every beat, every verse.

I didn’t see it then,
How you were all I had.
I lost myself in your echo,
In the ink that made me glad.

My heart was your canvas,
My soul was your stage.
Every poem, every thought—
You’re the one I can’t erase.

I let you go,
I thought it was right.
Now I’m alone,
Missing you at night.

I wish I’d stayed,
Fought for us more.
Your memory stays—
I’m still at that door.

I think I loved you too much,
Gave you all of me, every touch.
I smothered you in every way,
Afraid you’d ever drift away.

I see it now, the mess I made—
The fear, the fights, the endless chase.
I know I wasn’t perfect, true—
I let my ego shadow you.

There was a hope you’d see it all—
The mess I made was just for you.
The mess I’ve become, a twisted plea,
Because you were everything,
Everything to me.

You were the world I wouldn’t lose,
A light I couldn’t help but choose.
I know it’s wrong, but it’s still true—
The mess I’ve made is all for you.

My heart was heavy, full of ache,
A silent storm I couldn’t shake.
Though sadness wrapped me like a shroud,
I chose the path that’s not too loud.

It wasn’t good for you or me,
But good for all we couldn’t see.
A sacrifice, a quiet grace—
To give us both a healing space.

Though love has gone, I’m not undone,
The hardest choice was also the one.
For sometimes love must fade away,
To let the world find its own way.