Stifling. Silent. Still.
No footsteps down the aisle
No bells. An empty ring.
A warmth I haven't felt in a while

I broke into them in our living room
"They're perfect," you said
With a gentle caress to my knee
And a delicate kiss on my forehead

But now they're collecting dust
By the mirror, where they sit
The laces have worn out
And the soles barely fit

I had it all pictured in my mind
The vows. The kids. The locks of gray.
Like a dream so close to my reach
But I just couldn't make you stay

Stifling. Silent. Still.
Like the heels I'll never wear
Empty. Eerie. Erased.
It was like you were never there

I crave the hues of your eyes
in every painted evening sky;
the brushstrokes of the setting sun
recall my flushed cheeks:
your smile to adorn—
and in every landscape I seek
the roads still cheekily lead me back
to your street.

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
For all of the books I’ve read, I thank you.
And for all of the magazines I’ve enjoyed, too.
My first notes and love letters, you are the recipient.
Written all for you, to tell you that you’re heaven-sent.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
I learned my ABC’s because of you.
All of my first words were taught by you, too.
I would learn more languages for you, create more art,
Just so I could tell you over and over; “I love you to my heart”
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Because of you, my first colors were not shades of blue.
Thanks to you, I am chasing after my dreams, both old and new.
My books are the jewels in your crown.
My poetry is your kingdom come.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
You were there when I first picked up a pencil,
you are still here as you open this poem with a seal.
You are the queen of my letters and poems,
you are the angel of my hopes and dreams.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

There is no magic potion
Or Spell or Hex required
No Doctrine 
Or Approbation
Or Degree to be acquired
There is no formula or recipe
Modus Operandi 
Ritual or Rite
No red tape 
No routine
No code words to recite
You can bring your baggage 
Or leave it
Or I can help you to retrieve it
And unpack it
Or unload it
Me of mine
You’ll help relieve it

It’s just love Baby…

It’s not so hard to do
Just to me bring 
The very thing
That I convey to you

Just love me Baby…

It’s not so hard to do
Just to me bring 
The very thing
That I convey to you

I give my greetings to my dearest—
you still shine the brightest
among tulips in my memory.
And to the world well
beneath these walls,
I wish for this day to live.

I still have your name
carved on candles,
lit—in the silence
of your long-gone presence.

And time, as it melts—whole,
dulls the weight of longing.
But I can still hear your laugh
from years ago.
It still stings.

To the greetings left unsaid,
I whisper them to the air.
For my dearest memory,
I wish for your day—
to be the brightest.