In English we say, "I miss you," but in poetry we say, "Your absence is a hollow ache, a silent echo that reverberates through my days and nights."
I walk through the spaces we once shared, and the world seems dimmer, the colors muted. The laughter that once filled the air is now a distant memory, a ghostly whisper that lingers at the edge of my consciousness. The scent of your presence still haunts the rooms, a lingering trace that clings to the corners, refusing to be forgotten.
The days stretch long and empty, each moment a reminder of your absence. The sun rises and sets, casting long shadows that stretch across the floor, mimicking the void within me. The stars at night seem dimmer, their light no longer enough to chase away the darkness that has settled in my heart.
I find myself searching for you in the little things: in the way the wind rustles the leaves, in the quiet moments of dawn, in the fleeting smiles of strangers. Each reminder a bittersweet pang, a reminder of what was and what is no longer.
Your absence is a melody that plays softly in the background of my life, a tune that I cannot escape. It is the silence that follows a symphony, the quiet that lingers after the music has stopped. It is a weight that I carry with me, a part of me that is missing, a piece of my soul that is incomplete.
In poetry, I say, "You are the unspoken verse, the missing line in my song, the empty space in my heart that only you can fill."
