5-** Water

The lamplight falls across the polished wood,
where two hands rest on either side of empty space.
A stillness settles in the quiet room,
the sound of breath, a gesture of the chin.
We watch the simple dance of light and shadow.
The world outside is muted by the glass,
and we are held within this silent frame,
a perfect stillness before any start.

I feel the pull of all that we have not yet said, The Unwritten Map.
A quiet faith that grows in this new silence.
It is a choice, this beautiful uncertainty,
a silent promise that will never fade.
I feel the purpose in this endless journey,
a gravity I choose to stand within,
a knowledge in my soul that you are home.
My heart is listening for the sound of you.

The days unfold like a series of small, new revelations.
The way your eyes catch light when you are moved.
The gentle rhythm of your footsteps in the hall.
A fleeting sadness I observe behind your laughter.
A book left open to a favorite page,
a melody you hum beneath your breath.
These threads are woven into a design,
creating the tapestry of who we are.

This patient unfolding, this sacred distance, is love's true beginning.
We walk an unhurried road, The Unwritten Map.
I learn the cadence of your quiet moments.
We fill the empty spaces with a gentle kindling,
a patient unfolding, a chosen gravity.
The future is a landscape for our hands to draw.
We are the two rivers, and our separate paths
have brought us to this one, converging shore.

4-** Metal

The season turns, the air grows thin and sharp.
The empty space between two hands widens slowly.
An unanswered question in a silent room,
a shadow where a voice once lived.
The path ahead now lies without a guide,
its stones slick with a morning dew, not tears.
I watch the door, the frame of simple wood,
and find no warmth within the fading light.

This quiet letting go, I confess, holds no easy truth.
I've learned to love a silent ache, A Quiet Leaving.
The endless journeys, each with a lonely end,
the bottom of the glass offering only glass.
I hold this pain, this longing for a future
I could not keep. This hopeful emptiness,
a simple wish to feel a warmth
I gave away.

A different kind of distance takes its form.
The memory of laughter, a melody unheard.
The familiar smile now lives within the mind,
a ghost of touch, a kiss that finds no lips.
The warmth of sun now just a fading trace,
the echo of her hand as it slips from mine.
The door remains a solid, wooden fact.
The light has gone, but her shadow stays.

I choose this path of hope, A Quiet Leaving, for her.
They say that love can only grow in absence.
The space she needed, the time away, the distance,
I placed it there, a bridge she may not cross.
I live with faith in that one simple day
when the turning of a lock is not for parting,
when the light returns, when she finds her way
back through the solid, wooden door.

The distance grew, but I said nothing,
wondering what I had done,
or worse, if I had not done enough.
Was it me?
Or was there something else I didn't know?

I wondered why I was always alone,
why there was always that darkness.
Staring at the bottom of a glass answers nothing.
The journey always ended empty.
Maybe one day I'll understand,
hoping for that happily ever after.

The truth is, I love her.
I have always loved her.
She is the home I dreamed of,
the life I aspired to,
the partner through the journey.
But they say you will know love when you let her go.

It burns in my eyes,
no more tears to fall.
The ache in my chest,
no more beat I can hear.
It's cold now.
No more warmth as her touch fades.

I miss her sun,
the warmth on my face.
I miss her laugh,
the melody in my heart.
I miss her smile,
the kiss upon my lips.

When the light is gone,
I have to remember.
I chose to let her go.
She needed the time, the space, the distance.
I have faith in that one simple day
when she walks back through that door.

4-** Metal

The physical form is but a vessel,
its lines and curves a memory on my mind's canvas.
Your raven hair falls like a midnight river,
your brown eyes, twin pools of the deepest earth.
I recall the subtle shape of your ears, a delicate shell.
I remember the gentle allure of your neckline, a soft curve.
A figure both demure and sultry,
It is this absent vision that haunts my heart.

My waking intimacy is the new title to the ache
in my dreams, a space of both great passion and hollow longing.
I am burdened by a worry that sometimes feels like pain,
and I know it is a feeling we must share across this distance.
I wonder who weeps in the still of the night,
is it my tears that draw out yours,
or yours that begin to flood my own.
I am happiest when I think of you,
even as the thought leaves me physically drained.

Life's struggle can feel like a heavy weight,
and it feels heavier in your absence.
I recall those who lift us, those who love us,
and know you are the true substance of this world.
The empty work that drains my spirit is worse now,
as are the cruel people who seek to suppress us.
It is your support I need, your truth of connection,
the quiet strength we found in one another.

Your form may draw the gaze of any man,
In the Still of the Night, my love remains,
but it is your spirit that has captured me.
The sharpness of your mind that vexes my thoughts,
the sound of your laughter that echoes in my quiet moments,
the clear consciousness in your every action.
The way you used to speak to me, a language only we knew.
The way you used to look at me, a silent promise I hold to.
The way you used to touch me, a confirmation of our shared soul.

2-** Fire

I look into her beautiful brown eyes,
and see a depth of soul revealed.
The brushstrokes of her past, a quiet language.
Sunlight catches the shades of amber,
blinking away secrets of the night.
She wakes and looks into my own—
a simple, jade-green stone in a stream.
And I wonder what she sees when she looks.

I feel her pain as if it were my own.
But the spark in her eyes remains.
A love that lives in a place of quiet sorrow.
It is not for me to know the beginning of the hurt,
only to stand on the mountain with her.
To feel, without judgment, the tears she holds back.
Her soul is a world I am blessed to be a part of.
I see her life, and I feel her worth.

I look at the woman of immense emotions.
So fragile, so soft, so tender.
And yet, so strong, so resilient, so independent.
I watch as specks of gold light up when she smiles,
the flicker of wonder at a simple thing.
The intensity of her stare when she catches me watching.
I see the faint glimmer of who she was,
who she is, who she chooses to be.

My soul is bound to hers.
The spark in her eyes is my reason for living.
I cannot read her thoughts, but I know her heart.
I am on this shore, a constant observer.
I feel her pain, but I see her worth.
My love is a testament to this journey.
And through her eyes, I do not just look.
I live.

In the desolate landscape of my soul,
your absence echoes like a scream.
Shadows writhe where your light once warmed me,
a haunting reminder of love's decay.
My heart, a heavy burden, longs to be free.
Tears fall like autumn rain, relentless and cold.
Memories of your touch now taunt me,
leaving only emptiness to hold.

In dreams, I see your smile, a fleeting solace,
a bittersweet reminder of joy's escape.
My arms reach out, grasping only darkness,
a cruel fate that tears us apart, it seems.
Time stretches, a canvas of lonely hours,
each one a testament to love's lost themes.
I'm left to ponder what could have been,
haunted by the ghosts of our memories.

Your silence is a palpable thing,
a weight that presses upon my chest.
It threatens to consume me whole,
leaving naught but ashes of love's unrest.
And yet, I hold on to the hope of your return,
a glimmer of light in love's darkened urn.
My heart remains yours, a flame that flickers still,
guiding you back, should you choose to fulfill.

In this emptiness, I'll wait for your call,
a whispered promise to rekindle love's flame.
Together we can chase the shadows away,
and our love can rise, reborn from heartache's gray.
Until then, know that my love remains true,
a constant heartbeat, waiting only for you.

I masked my fears, because I was broken
I tried to write, but the pain has dried my quill
I couldn’t see the light, couldn’t feel worth
I curled up, I retreated
I tried to smile, but the joy was gone
The betrayal of love is so complete
I just wanted to stay hidden.

I saw her, behind the mask
I understood her, through her paintings
I noted everything, and engaged her
Why did I let her in?  Why did it feel right?
I was honest, and kind to her.
She didn’t see me as broken, or damaged
She unchained me, shined the light on my dark

I saw her, this amazing woman
I lost hope because it always hurt
But she broke through the walls,
Where I thought no one could
She’s awakened parts of me I thought buried
I was lost inside my own head,
actions of the past tormenting me

No one sees me the way she does

We have to face what we know we can’t fix alone
Trying to find ways to escape this cycle together
We try to hide the broken pieces
We try to write, but within the ink, there is no hope
We can’t fix what is broke,
If we never face it, together

The past is the past,
we cannot fix it,
cannot revisit it,
but we can learn from it,