You made me feel like I was left homeless in the winter cold.
At the end of the day, everyone has a place to return to—
a warm light, a waiting soul.
I used to run to you,
just to hold you,
just to let your arms lift the weight off my shoulders.
Now where do I go?
I wander beneath the darkened sky,
no door to knock on,
no arms to fall into.
Just me—
a stray in the pouring rain.
And I’ll never forget
how you made me feel that way.

The sky has been grey for days,
and I can’t tell if it’s the weather or my heart.
Maybe the sun will shine when I feel lighter—
or maybe I’ll feel lighter
when the clouds finally drift away.

As the days, weeks, and months pass,
every memory will begin to fade…
First, I’ll forget the shape of your face,
then the scent that used to linger.
Soon, even the good and the bad
will slip quietly through the cracks of time.
It hurts now,
but time is gentle with its erasing.
Healing is slow—
but it always comes.

Whisper to the winds of your own becoming,
let your soul drift through unspoken dreams.
The universe will listen,
and your name will find its wings.

November…
The month of yellow leaves,
breezy winds, and unfinished feelings.
A quiet unease drifts through the air.

The month of broken hearts,
half-told love stories…
Of feeling left behind,
of feeling alone.

I envy the immortality of poets and writers—
how their spirits linger through the beauty they’ve penned.
You reminded me that words, though born of mortal hands,
can render our fleeting lives eternal.

Our love shall live on in these letters.
Long after we’re gone, our great-grandchildren—
even strangers who never knew our names—
will read them and feel the pulse of what we were.
In their minds, we’ll rise again.

When I leave this world,
let these precious lines be my footprints.
I’ll carry no regrets—
for I’ll meet you in a better place,
and our story will echo long after we’re gone.

They will know that we were here.
We lived, we loved, and we departed—
wrapped in joy, hand in hand.
And as we cross into eternity,
these words will keep our flame alive in this fleeting world.

While sunlight blinds our eyes,
while I sit in your lap,
bathed in golden warmth,
and drinking in the view—
they will be reading this billet doux.

Whether in shadow or light,
being with you is always worth celebrating.
Every moment—each glance, each sound of your voice—
feels like a quiet miracle.

Time bends around us, slipping through our fingers
like golden sand—too fast, too fleeting.
The only sorrow is knowing
our time together always ends.

When I’m with you, I crave eternity.
I want our moments to stretch beyond time,
to live outside clocks and calendars.
Can you promise me forever?
Can we make time stand still—together?