you called yourself to be the “perfect fit” for my imperfections and flaws,
the endless hour, together, where time would continuously pause,
you were painfully beautiful and I was a fine mess,
being alone together was all that mattered, about the rest,
we couldn’t care less.
but since you are gone, the loud silence between us is deafening,
my sight is successfully failing,
to unsee your vision in the dark
it's no secret that I'm quietly screaming in my heart,
I guess, now, to be happy, sadly is, too much to ask.