I never imagined a world where the sun
Could rise without the things you said.
You were the keeper of my quietest truths,
The one who knew what my silence meant;
Now I am a book with the last page torn,
An echo of a life we both spent.
They say that grief gets softer with time,
But they don’t tell you how loud it stays.
It’s in the empty seat at the table,
In the habit of calling you through the haze.
I see a joke you’d find hilarious,
Or a sky turned a shade of bruised blue,
And for a heartbeat, I turn to my side—
Reaching for a shadow that looks like you.
The longing isn\'t a wave that passes;
It’s the gravity I walk in now.
A heavy, constant, invisible pull,
A debt to a love that I’ll always owe.
You took a piece of the world with you,
A colour I can no longer see.