Your laughter was a song I knew by heart,
a melody I played on repeat in the dark.
Now the silence hums where your voice once bloomed,
a garden of echoes in an empty room.

Copy
I trace the shape of you in the spaces you left—
the curve of your absence, the hollow of breath.
Your name is a hymn I can’t stop reciting,
a prayer that lingers, endlessly fighting.

They say love is a fire, but yours was the sun—
too bright to hold, too vast to outrun.
Now I orbit the shadow of what we once were,
a planet unmoored, a star’s fading blur.

Still, I wear your memory like a second skin,
a map of the places we’ve already been.
And though the night stretches, endless and wide,
I’ll carry your light where the darkness collides.