In the cold, I find your heat.
In the sun, I search for your water.
In the dark, your light I seek.
I'm a poet in love—like my son and my father.

I was raised to find your gaze.
I was born to solve your maze.
I am who I am, and I love who I love.
We were prophesied by cards, Destiny, and God.

Woke up hearing a drizzle,
Soft touches of heaven on my window.
Each night I get closer to death,
Each dream — a reason we met.

I hold no power over the things you do;
I can only offer love, devotion, and verses too.
I yearn for you like thirst and hunger;
I still dream of a life with you, like when I was younger.

I miss her...
That just feels too simple.
Too mundane.
Too human.
...
How can I explain it—how I feel?
...
I feel like I’ve got my ear pressed to the floorboards, listening to her footsteps as she walks out of my life.
I feel like I’m drowning in the desert.
Like I’m stuck to the ground, suspended in the air.
Like I’m watching the sun burn down
And the stars fade.

I feel full of emptiness
And lacking existence.
I’m floating in the void between us.
...

I still remember her eyes, full of tears that wouldn’t fall,
And my mouth, full of liquid yet in a drought.
I remember the smell of the coffee shop where she said.
I remember the convenience store where she decided my fate.
I remember the last days—and I still read her last message.

But still...
I also remember how she said she would stop fighting the current of our love.
That she would surrender to the natural lean of me.
And her eyes—full of love in the light of a blue storm.

I miss her...
I feel like poison, like caffeine and wizardry.
She feels like the smell of rain, cold pillows, and sweet strawberries.

She exists—therefore, I love her.
I love her—therefore, I exist.

My love was shaped by the curves of your smile,
And the way you looked at me made life worthwhile.
Even now, my dreams still flow to your sea,
Because in the end, we are perfect — you and me.

My heart feels like a forest of dead trees,
Burned branches and mercury scenes.
Rivers of love with nowhere to go —
I miss your smell, your voice, your soul.

I wrote poetry like you still read it each morning,
And I let my soul finish all the sentences.
Lying in my bed with your heat still soaring,
I wished for one more second in your presence.

I bargained with my pillow to let me sleep,
So I could fall into your arms in every night's deep.
Like a prayer, he is my dream prophet—
Like my broken soul, I am your poet.

I just hope the night can cure my blues,
That one day I’ll see the real you.
That you find the queen in your shoe,
And we can dream of a future or two.

It’s time to accept I lost the love of my life,
To forgive myself for feelings I can't control.
To fight and rise above my vice,
Even if I set lonely goals.

My phone still waits for your red heart,
But only if you’re ready to try.
Because love like ours is art—
It’s God chasing joy, it’s heaven in sight.