When I lie beside her,
my mind still drifts to you
a whisper in the dark,
a question I can't silence.

Your scent,
a ghost I chase in every room.
Your beauty
etched into me like scripture,
unfading,
unforgiving.

You unlock something in me
my pen bleeds truth
when you haunt my thoughts.
I write bare,
unarmored,
because of you.

No one else
makes me tremble
the way you do.

Sometimes,
the ache of missing you
burns into motion
I dream of my motorcycle
cutting through the salt air,
hugging the cliffs
from LA to Oregon,
just to collapse into the fire
we once called love.

But love like ours
is a wound,
and I wear the pain
like a patchwork of tears and scars,
empty and spent
but never free.