It’s strange how you linger in my mind,
A fleeting moment, etched, refined.
The echo of your voice, a gentle song,
Each pause stretching, lasting long.
Conversations, though fleeting, remain,
Wrapped in warmth, a soothing refrain.
I yearn to reach out, but silence constrains—
Would my voice be welcome, or met with disdain?
Should I reach out, or let quiet abide?
I wrestle with doubts that won’t subside.
To ask, “Are you well? How was your day?
Did you eat? Are you okay?”
Anxiety whispers its familiar refrain:
“You’re not in his world, your care is in vain.”
Is he distracted, lost in a scroll?
Or does the distance weigh on his soul?
A storm of questions, a mind left ajar,
Am I too much? Have I drifted too far?
The overthinking hums its old tune,
A dance with shadows, a thought-bound cocoon.
I’d like to believe that timing’s astray,
Reserving “what if” for another day.
But each day for you is a mountain steep,
A struggle with burdens, in silence you keep.
I miss your face, your warmth, your space,
The comfort found in our brief embrace.
Yet, who am I to defy the flow,
To rush what only time can grow?
You might call me crazy, but it’s how I feel,
A genuine heart, a love so real.
I see your beauty, your light, your flaws,
The fire that burns despite the cause.
Though I miss you, I’m glad you’re fine,
So I pen these words, seeking peace in rhyme.
Not to burden your spirit, nor weigh you down,
But to steady my heart, to calm its sound.
You’re amazing—I hope you know,
Wherever you wander, I wish you to grow.
And if I’m a whisper that brushes your ear,
Know I care deeply, and I’ll always be near.
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