After all the words you’ve spoken,
after all the poems you’ve written,
I might already know how this story gonna ends.

For now,
let me borrow your time to see you again,
to feel your touch linger once more,
to ache for the echo of us,
to love you a little longer,
until the clock runs out.

When my heart whispers, enough,
when my mind demands me to leave,
when my body wearies from the weight of pain,
I’ll let you go.

And in stepping forward,
I’ll prove I’ve truly let you fade.

Every time I touch the void
Do you feel a tremble, a stir?
Every time I paint it with a whisper of color
Do you see a shift within?
If not, at least I've tried.
Perhaps I’m not the one you seek.