I Never Wanted to Live Without You

I never wanted to live without you,
to walk through days where your voice is a shadow,
a memory trembling on the edge of silence.
The world feels heavier now,
its colours muted, as though it too
grieves the absence of your light.

I never asked to learn the language of loss,
to speak in sighs and tears,
to write love letters to the stars,
hoping they’ll find you wherever you are.
Your laughter still echoes in the hollow places,
a bittersweet melody I can’t bear to forget.

I never thought I’d carry your absence,
a weight that doesn’t fade with time.
It nestles beside me,
an unwelcome companion,
its presence both ache and solace.

I never wanted this lesson in love’s endurance,
to know that it stretches beyond touch,
beyond breath,
beyond the fragile boundary of this life.
You are here, and not here,
a paradox I hold in trembling hands.

I never wanted to live without you,
but here I am,
stitching the broken pieces of my heart
with threads of your memory.
And though you are gone,
you remain —
a quiet flame,
a whisper of forever
etched into the marrow of my soul.

KAB 8/12/24