The priest at your favorite church may never wed us and my mother may never meet you nor my father never know your name but I can always hold your hand through my empty glass every time I finish a drink and whisper your name to the spirits I consume and if that is not the sanctity of marriage then i may never know what is.

There is a certain familiarity to longing - like a song I no longer sing but will always make my fingers dance through the keys every time I see a piano just to hear the tune again. Missing you is like trying to remember the back roads of the highway I used to take - I may never know what lies in the gravel that laid on the streets of that path but I know for a fact the version of me who took a turn to drive through it have seen things I can only imagine - have heard things I can only wish to have heard - the version of us who chose each other is the same.

Life is full of possibilities; like a book on a shelf unopened, unread, holding a million universes where we may or may not have happened. I like to think that somewhere out there is a version of me who was brave enough to take the risk with us. I like to imagine a life where we did not think of the possibility of us hurting each other - just the certainty that we were worth hurting for. The thorns intertwined beneath our veins was a ****** commitment to a life we never chose.

The ring you wear may not be from me and the house I built may not be one you call home but we will always think of each other’s eyes for a fleeting moment and imagine a life where WE could  have been and if that is not marriage then I do not know what is.

The skies are calmer
The clouds that once engulfed the stars seem to make way for the days.

The anger in my fists seem lighter
Making way for my hands to open up and hold your face.

My sharp tongue hid itself away
Made room for my lips to press together to kiss yours.

The curve of my neck is for you
As I inhale every semblance of you through my skin and through my pores.

When I say I am all yours,
I mean every joint in my elbows yearn to bend to hold you when you’re near.

My eyes belong to you
The way it searches every second of the day for a glimpse of you to wish you were here.

You make me want to believe in fate
How the universe was made with plans of us being together

How we were meant to meet at a time where my anger was safer and my horns were duller.

How I willed my devils to bow down to me but they willingly kneeled down when you came.

The devil himself may repent at my feet but it trembles at the sound of your name.

I like how I see you in every cloud
Each shape taking the form of your smile and further
strengthening my longing to see your face.

How every step I take feels heavy if it’s not a step towards you.
Every sway of my arms feel wider - as if looking for yours to hold,
a wishful thought that i’d find it soon in the coming days.

I hear your voice in the roar of my bike’s engine
an everlasting reminder to ride safe -
a soft whisper every time I twist the throttle.

I find it sweet how I sometimes boil water for two cups instead of one,
sometimes forgetting that you’re not here yet
Trying to tell myself how I fail at trying to be subtle.

I sometimes find myself rolling over in my sleep
and for a short sweet moment I look for you beside me
As if thinking about you hard enough would bring you here.

While driving, I catch myself glancing to the passenger seat,
picturing you seated in the car with me, driving for hours
In hopes of getting the both of us near.

I have been in situations where I told myself I would die for my principles
but I never thought I’d find myself living for someone.
But I like where we are, how we are so entangled into each other but still remain
To be our own person.
How we complete each other without compromising our sense of self, the way you keep making me want to be better
you have become my favorite sound
My favorite smile
My favorite breath of fresh air,
My favorite reason.