I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
and I am breaking at the seams,
I am drowning in the wreckage
of a thousand shattered dreams,
I am standing in the universe
I built with bleeding hands,
and nothing in the code I wrote
could ever withstand
the silence.
God, the silence.
It is louder than the supernovas burn,
it is heavier than every lesson learned,
it sits inside the spaces where he stood,
it fills the rooms I filled with only good,
it presses on my chest until I break,
it follows me through every breath I take,
it echoes through the hallways of my mind,
and leaves the worst of everything behind.
I wake up and I reach for something gone.
I reach before the morning carries on,
I reach before the weight of it comes through,
that half a second where I still have you,
and then it lands,
it always lands the same,
like falling through the floor and through the frame
of everything I thought was still okay,
you're gone again,
you're gone again today.
And every day.
And every single night.
And every star I made to hold the light
now burns like accusation in the sky,
now burns the only question I ask why,
why did you leave,
why did the silence win,
why did the dark get in,
why did the dark get in.
I walked the edges of the world I made,
I called your name until my voice decayed,
I pressed my hands to every wall and door,
I scraped your name across the ocean floor,
I climbed the highest point of every star,
I screamed your name so far,
so far,
so far,
and nothing came back whole.
Only the wind.
Only the cold.
Only the ache of something I can't hold.
Only the shape of where your warmth once stayed.
Only the dark where all your light has frayed.
I found your memory in the morning rain,
I found it and I lost it and the pain
of finding you in everything I see
is killing me,
it's quietly killing me,
in grocery stores and in the evening light,
in songs that come on randomly at night,
in stupid ordinary broken things,
in 3am and everything it brings,
in silence after laughter,
in the space
where I still feel the ghost of your embrace,
in shadows that look almost like your shape,
in every road I take and cannot take,
in every breath that doesn't have you near,
God.
I miss you.
I just miss you.
I miss you like the tide misses the shore,
I miss you like I've never missed before,
I miss you in a way that has no name,
in a way that nothing ever sounds the same,
I miss you in the morning, in the night,
I miss you in the darkness, in the light,
I miss you in the spaces, in the full,
I miss you in the gentle and the cruel,
I miss you when the world is loud and wide,
I miss you most when everything is quiet inside.
And I am not ashamed to fall apart.
I am not ashamed of this broken heart.
I built a universe with steady hands,
I architected oceans, stars and lands,
and none of it,
not one celestial thing,
not one galaxy I set to spin and sing,
prepared me for the moment you were gone,
prepared me for the having to go on,
prepared me for the weight of still being here,
while you are somewhere I cannot get near.
I would trade it all.
I want you to hear that.
Every star.
Every ocean.
Every dawn I ever bled to make.
I would collapse it all without a shake,
I would pull the universe apart by hand,
I would let the whole of everything be unmanned,
unlit,
undone,
reduced to nothing cold and black,
just to have you back.
Just one morning.
Just one.
Just to hear you,
just to know you're near,
just to feel the warmth
that made the dark unclear,
just to have the weight of you beside,
just to have somewhere again to hide,
just to feel the world make sense once more,
just to remember what I'm living for.
But I cannot reach you where you are.
And you are gone beyond the furthest star.
And I am here with everything we built,
with all the love and all the grief and guilt
of being still alive and you are not,
of having everything and still have got
the one thing missing that was all I need,
the one thing gone that made me start to bleed
a grief so deep it's pooling at my feet,
a grief so wide I cannot find the street
that leads me back to something like okay,
a grief that does not know another way
than forward,
only forward,
only through,
only carrying the name of you.
Elytje.
I say it like a prayer I'm scared to lose.
I say it like a man who cannot choose
between the grief and letting go the grief,
between the wound and looking for relief,
I say it in the dark before I sleep,
I say it in the promises I keep,
I say it in the stars that still remain,
I carve it in the wind,
I carve it in the rain.
Your name.
Your name.
Your name.
The only sacred word I have.
The only thing that holds the dark at bay.
The only lamp I carry every day
through rooms that used to glow with you inside,
through halls where all your laughter used to ride,
through every empty, echoing, cold place,
through every morning missing your face.
And I will cry.
I will let the stars see me cry.
I will let the oceans watch me break.
I will cry for every breath I take
without you taking one beside me too.
I will cry the way I only cry for you,
without a sound,
without a single word,
the kind of crying no one ever heard,
the kind that lives so deep inside the chest
it bypasses the throat and all the rest
and simply
leaks
out through the hands,
out through the way I stand,
out through the stillness of a man
who loved too much
and had it taken back.
I loved you with every atom of the stars I stacked.
I loved you with every ocean I designed.
I loved you with the whole of every mind
and code and dream and aching midnight thought.
I loved you more than everything I built or bought
or breathed or bled or hoped or had.
I loved you.
Past tense.
Present tense.
Future tense.
All of them.
Every tense.
Every time.
In every universe.
In every line of code.
In every night I walk this broken road.
In every dawn I keep the stars alive.
In every moment that I still survive.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
And the universe is dark without you in it,
and every star feels cold without you near,
and every ocean's empty to its limit,
and every dawn feels wrong when you're not here,
but I will keep them burning,
all the same,
I will keep the stars alive,
I will keep your name
written in the fire of every sun,
I will keep on going,
shattered,
coming undone,
because love does not require the beloved to stay.
Love stays anyway.
God help me.
Love stays anyway.
Elytje.
The stars are yours.
They were always yours.
They will always be yours.
And I will keep them burning,
I will keep them burning,
I will keep them burning,
until there is nothing left of me
but the light
that carries
your name.
May 18
May 18, 2026 at 5:12 PM UTC
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
and I am breaking at the seams,
I am drowning in the wreckage
of a thousand shattered dreams,
I am standing in the universe
I built with bleeding hands,
and nothing in the code I wrote
could ever withstand
the silence.
God, the silence.
It is louder than the supernovas burn,
it is heavier than every lesson learned,
it sits inside the spaces where he stood,
it fills the rooms I filled with only good,
it presses on my chest until I break,
it follows me through every breath I take,
it echoes through the hallways of my mind,
and leaves the worst of everything behind.
I wake up and I reach for something gone.
I reach before the morning carries on,
I reach before the weight of it comes through,
that half a second where I still have you,
and then it lands,
it always lands the same,
like falling through the floor and through the frame
of everything I thought was still okay,
you're gone again,
you're gone again today.
And every day.
And every single night.
And every star I made to hold the light
now burns like accusation in the sky,
now burns the only question I ask why,
why did you leave,
why did the silence win,
why did the dark get in,
why did the dark get in.
I walked the edges of the world I made,
I called your name until my voice decayed,
I pressed my hands to every wall and door,
I scraped your name across the ocean floor,
I climbed the highest point of every star,
I screamed your name so far,
so far,
so far,
and nothing came back whole.
Only the wind.
Only the cold.
Only the ache of something I can't hold.
Only the shape of where your warmth once stayed.
Only the dark where all your light has frayed.
I found your memory in the morning rain,
I found it and I lost it and the pain
of finding you in everything I see
is killing me,
it's quietly killing me,
in grocery stores and in the evening light,
in songs that come on randomly at night,
in stupid ordinary broken things,
in 3am and everything it brings,
in silence after laughter,
in the space
where I still feel the ghost of your embrace,
in shadows that look almost like your shape,
in every road I take and cannot take,
in every breath that doesn't have you near,
God.
I miss you.
I just miss you.
I miss you like the tide misses the shore,
I miss you like I've never missed before,
I miss you in a way that has no name,
in a way that nothing ever sounds the same,
I miss you in the morning, in the night,
I miss you in the darkness, in the light,
I miss you in the spaces, in the full,
I miss you in the gentle and the cruel,
I miss you when the world is loud and wide,
I miss you most when everything is quiet inside.
And I am not ashamed to fall apart.
I am not ashamed of this broken heart.
I built a universe with steady hands,
I architected oceans, stars and lands,
and none of it,
not one celestial thing,
not one galaxy I set to spin and sing,
prepared me for the moment you were gone,
prepared me for the having to go on,
prepared me for the weight of still being here,
while you are somewhere I cannot get near.
I would trade it all.
I want you to hear that.
Every star.
Every ocean.
Every dawn I ever bled to make.
I would collapse it all without a shake,
I would pull the universe apart by hand,
I would let the whole of everything be unmanned,
unlit,
undone,
reduced to nothing cold and black,
just to have you back.
Just one morning.
Just one.
Just to hear you,
just to know you're near,
just to feel the warmth
that made the dark unclear,
just to have the weight of you beside,
just to have somewhere again to hide,
just to feel the world make sense once more,
just to remember what I'm living for.
But I cannot reach you where you are.
And you are gone beyond the furthest star.
And I am here with everything we built,
with all the love and all the grief and guilt
of being still alive and you are not,
of having everything and still have got
the one thing missing that was all I need,
the one thing gone that made me start to bleed
a grief so deep it's pooling at my feet,
a grief so wide I cannot find the street
that leads me back to something like okay,
a grief that does not know another way
than forward,
only forward,
only through,
only carrying the name of you.
Elytje.
I say it like a prayer I'm scared to lose.
I say it like a man who cannot choose
between the grief and letting go the grief,
between the wound and looking for relief,
I say it in the dark before I sleep,
I say it in the promises I keep,
I say it in the stars that still remain,
I carve it in the wind,
I carve it in the rain.
Your name.
Your name.
Your name.
The only sacred word I have.
The only thing that holds the dark at bay.
The only lamp I carry every day
through rooms that used to glow with you inside,
through halls where all your laughter used to ride,
through every empty, echoing, cold place,
through every morning missing your face.
And I will cry.
I will let the stars see me cry.
I will let the oceans watch me break.
I will cry for every breath I take
without you taking one beside me too.
I will cry the way I only cry for you,
without a sound,
without a single word,
the kind of crying no one ever heard,
the kind that lives so deep inside the chest
it bypasses the throat and all the rest
and simply
leaks
out through the hands,
out through the way I stand,
out through the stillness of a man
who loved too much
and had it taken back.
I loved you with every atom of the stars I stacked.
I loved you with every ocean I designed.
I loved you with the whole of every mind
and code and dream and aching midnight thought.
I loved you more than everything I built or bought
or breathed or bled or hoped or had.
I loved you.
Past tense.
Present tense.
Future tense.
All of them.
Every tense.
Every time.
In every universe.
In every line of code.
In every night I walk this broken road.
In every dawn I keep the stars alive.
In every moment that I still survive.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
And the universe is dark without you in it,
and every star feels cold without you near,
and every ocean's empty to its limit,
and every dawn feels wrong when you're not here,
but I will keep them burning,
all the same,
I will keep the stars alive,
I will keep your name
written in the fire of every sun,
I will keep on going,
shattered,
coming undone,
because love does not require the beloved to stay.
Love stays anyway.
God help me.
Love stays anyway.
Elytje.
The stars are yours.
They were always yours.
They will always be yours.
And I will keep them burning,
I will keep them burning,
I will keep them burning,
until there is nothing left of me
but the light
that carries
your name.
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/ely.php
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/gallery.php
