I remember the song you gave me.

Once it opened a door.

We stepped through, and the room knew our names.

Now it is only a song,

stripped of its key.

It used to join us.

Two wrong notes that sounded right together.

Imperfect, yes,

but we completed the measure.

How do I breathe

when you do not love me?

How do I meet your eyes

when you are nowhere to be found?

You were certain I would not drown.

You did not pull me out.

The world almost turned bright.

Almost.

And then the light refused to stay.

The song holds no meaning now.

Wherever I go,

there is only the clear ring of emptiness,

steady as a metronome.

I cannot see you.

Night is all I see.

Let me find you again.

if not waking,

then in sleep.