A heartbeat in the distance,
once a symphony,
now fractured notes dissolving in air.
Fingers once laced,
like threads weaving worlds,
are loose, and the wind,
whispers goodbye between the gaps.

You were the sun at midnight,
the impossible touch of light,
in places I didn't know could bloom,
but time turned you into a shadow,
fading slow,
leaving nothing but echoes of your warmth.

The road we carved,
marked by laughter and silent promises,
cracks and crumbles beneath the weight of absence.
Each step forward drags the ghost of your smile,
a tether to something no longer there,
but not yet gone.

I hold you,
not in flesh,
but in memory's restless dream,
where your voice still lingers,
on the edge of a word,
that never fully lands.

How can love be lost?
It sits in the marrow,
a fire never truly extinguished,
just misplaced in the night.
Yet the heart learns its new rhythm,
the silence becomes a new kind of music,
and love lost, but not forgotten,
rests somewhere deep,
beneath the skin of the stars.