I dream of Mountains and their beauty,
because that awestruck feeling of being leveled by their view
is the closest thing I still have to You.

Your kisses seep through my skin like water in a wound.
Your whispered words wash me like waves of holy water.
I didn't know the depth of love until I drowned in yours.

When we cuddled,
I could feel the
loneliness
in your bones.
So I held you a little tighter,
caressed you a little longer,
and I felt it shiver out of you like the cold.

I've spent some sleepless nights just laying in my bed,
but I still dream about you every now and then.
Although your image fades, the feeling never did.
I can't help but think about the lives we could've lived.

With her broken eyes staring back at me,
my heart whispered,
"She can fix Us."

You told me about the scar you've had since you were a kid.
A permanent reminder of a moment's mistake.
I wondered what other scars there were—imprints of time that I could and couldn't see.
Moreover, I wondered If I had given you any.
Am I the cause of those indiscernible tangents of life that run through your head every night?
Had I left reminders of me that you can't get rid of?