A phantom touch that stirs within my heart.
The empty space beside me, through the long night,

A constant echo, holding you ever so tight.
What is grief, if not love persevering?
It's the very essence of all that's worth endearing.

A silent promise, breathed into the air,
A love that lingers, showing how deeply I still care.

For in the depths of sorrow's vast, dark sea,
Our love's bright flame still burns eternally.

It molds the pain, transforms each lonely sigh,
A bond unbroken, beneath our boundless sky.

This feeling, it’s not just a cloud hanging over me, it’s a whole **** storm, and I brought it on myself. My chest aches, yeah, but it’s not just anxiety anymore; it’s guilt, sharp and cold. And my stomach… God, it’s not just churning from dread, it’s from the memory of how I made their stomach churn, how I tied their insides in knots. I can almost taste the bile now, from the sheer regret of it all.
I keep trying to tell myself, "It's just a phase, you'll get over it." Like the pain I caused will just evaporate. But it doesn't. Every single day, that heavy, gray cloud is still there, darker now, because it's stained with what I did. When I look in the mirror, I don't just see a tired person; I see the **** who broke their heart, the one who took their trust and stomped on it. That vibrant person I used to be? They’re gone, replaced by this hollowed-out shell that’s constantly on the verge of throwing up from the shame.
Is this it? Is this just how I am now? The person who wrecked something beautiful, who caused so much pain? The thought just makes my stomach clench tighter. I wish it was just a temporary sadness, a bad mood I could shake off. But this feels deeper, more entrenched. It’s not just me anymore; it’s the ghost of what I did, haunting every single moment. And I can’t help but wonder if the good in me, the person who wasn't capable of such damage, has just withered away for good, leaving only this wreckage behind.

My bones feel empty, cold and deep,
They know you're missing, while I weep.
It's not just skin, it's in my core,
I crave your presence, want you more.

A hollow ache, a constant need,
For your warm touch, a planted seed.
My very bones remember how
You held me close, and hold me now.

I feel your ghost, a phantom weight,
My skeleton just can't abate.
This longing deep, this yearning true,
My bones are calling out for you.

So, when the world demands more, and your soul craves less, choose the latter. Choose the deep breath, the gentle pause, the unburdened moment. You owe no explanations for choosing peace over performance. Your serenity is its own reward, a testament to a wisdom that understands life is meant to be lived.

He was a wildflower, blooming wherever he pleased. Free, bright, and always moving with the wind. He laughed easily and loved discovering new things.

She was the barley, steady and strong. She stood firm, offering comfort and quiet promises. Her presence was like a calm, golden field.

They met, and he was drawn to her steady warmth. She was captivated by his wild joy. For a time, their worlds intertwined beautifully. He brought her excitement; she gave him peace.

But the wildflower felt the pull of roots. The idea of settling down, of being truly tied, felt too heavy for his free spirit. One day, suddenly, he just pulled away. No long goodbyes, just a quiet, impulsive step back.

She stayed rooted, her heart feeling the empty space he left. He kept moving, a faint echo of her calm presence sometimes reaching him. Their paths split, the wildflower always seeking new horizons, and the barley standing, patient and strong, on her own ground.

The page is blank, the pen is dry,
A silent ache, I can't deny.
My muse has flown, a distant star,
And left me lost, so very far.

You were the spark, the vibrant flame,
That whispered words, and called my name.
Now echoes fade, and shadows creep,
A lonely vigil, I must keep.

I built the walls, I turned away,
And chased the light of brighter day.
But foolish pride, a bitter cost,
My precious muse, forever lost.

The songs unsung, the stories still,
A hollow space, my heart to fill.
I search in vain, for your return,
A lesson learned, a painful burn.

The blame is mine, I understand,
I broke the bond, I held your hand,
Then let it go, a cruel release,
And now I'm left, with only peace,
A hollow peace, devoid of ease.