He always made coffee for her.
She adored it whenever she was.
She looked at him by all her eyes
When he was speaking, no matter what of.

He always knew what to say or to do,
As to she scared of nothing.
She could be herself whenever with him.
She could be naughty and laughing.

She always was strict and stubborn
With everyone else nearby.
But close to him she became as cotton,
Light and calm for a while.

She was afraid of losing him,
And he loved her completely all.
He always made coffee for her
And she loved him in spite of all.

Five years passing slow
love was never truly there
just a borrowed dream

Words once sparked the night
now drown in the quiet void
hearts speak different tongues

Each step feels like stone
a duty bound by routine
the spark long faded

"Reach for the infinite sun,"
She said, yet pulling the heavens
gravity of doubt

Two worlds side by side
beds cold, the nights stretch endless
their hands never meet

What is left but hope?
A tether to something gone
His mettle whispers, "Stay."

We sit by the shore,
The sky softly burns with hues of amber
You gaze at the horizon,
I gaze at you,
And between us, the wind carries silence.

“The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask softly
You smile,
Hiding the ache at the edge of your lips
“Yes,” you finally reply.

“But like all beautiful things, it, too, must come to an end.”
You fall silent,
Yet your eyes said it all
I know you understand,
This isn’t just about the sunset,
But about us,
Slowly fading, like the sun descending into its rest.

“My part here is done,”
I murmured to the wind,
Hoping it would carry away my words
“My role ends now,”
You turned to me, your face searching for answers,
But neither of us spoke,
Because deep down, we both knew—
This was the final chapter.

The sky darkened,
And I stood,
My feet heavy, but my heart heavier
I knew we couldn’t hold onto the sunset forever.

“I have to go,” I say softly
You don’t stop me, you only nod gently
And as the sun finally disappears
I walk away,
Leaving you beneath the shadow of the night.

I lie wide awake,

listening attentively --


to no sounds at all.

Look, here is a puzzle.

A mystery for you to solve.

You don't have the answer?

You're meant to have them all.

Just read the signs, in faces, reach out,

but never call. Don't ever ask the questions,

that's against the rules. You are the only one

that find the silence cruel. Only you find it to be

troubling. Everyone else can play this game, no problem.

Sometimes I love my reflection.  
Other times, he's just a bad friend—fixing his lips like he's about to interrupt me before I get my thought out good.  
When I stop speaking, so does he.  
What do you expect? He's me. ****.  
In truth, the bills are paid, and all current business is handled. But something is missing. It’s obvious. He just looks and shakes his head—my reflection.  
I'd be lying if I said I didn't care.  
I've gotten used to the silence that follows me. It's peaceful.  
When I make it home after a long day, if I touch something, I know where it is.  
If I cook something, I know there's more, even if I don't eat it all.  
He sits back and watches all of this.  
My reflection. Half the time, I pay him no mind. Sometimes, it's better that way.  

But sometimes, I wouldn't mind a bit of noise