I wonder if this time alone will do me better or worse.
I suppose it depends on how I spend it; what I do.
To be with and without you is a blessing and a curse.
And yet, to be with you or without you, will be nothing new.

If I were the shadows in the night, you were the light of the moon.
Your gentle illumination caressed my crevices and cracks.
In my lonely darkness, I lived in fright; finding you was my boon.
You loved me, in spite and consideration of all that I lack.

Yet the moon changes, and light fades.
Some nights were pitch-black before dawn would begin to break.
I found beauty in contrast; your glow, my shade.
In your absence, dark nights grew hard to take.

In your presence, I wonder if anything would have been different.
I never needed a shoulder to lean on; maybe just a hand to hold.
I might have needed you, but that doesn’t need to be relevant.
In togetherness, all we would go through alone left us cold.

I wear your memory in a smile; in a sullen glance.
Painted in a photograph, we adorn ourselves with upturned eyes.
The crinkles in the corners of your eyes pierce my heart like a lance.
Listless nostalgia tugs at my heartstrings, begging me to sigh.

I find there is more bitter in my sweet.
This aftertaste sings reminiscent of you.
On pulses the faint echo of your distant heartbeat;
The remnant imprint you left is dark-hued and blue.