To Marcy Howard

Its two am in the morning, and I stare into the black,
Crickets being the only sound, as memories take me back,
I return to the land of dreams, to that time when I held you,
And though alone in this place, the past collects its dues.
 
 
The memories remind me, of how each other we found,
The discovery of our lifetimes, but tomorrow’s out of bounds,
Footsteps soon invade the dream, diminishing as you walk away,
And in this pain that we made, tomorrow we used to trade.
 
 
I was never good, at reading between the lines,
Its the person who’s important to me, not the words we left behind,
Each night with a hollow sound, my heart speaks to me,
It whispers of the things we found, and how apart we are not free.
 
 
The heart is missing its very beat, its hollow without you near,
And as it reaches for its other half, there’s no beating sound to hear,
This heart is not broken, it just understands the facts,
For every night in my dreams, this hollow heart attacks.
 
 
No one gave me to you, we gave ourselves to each other,
And as we toil each alone, the heart will only smother,
I believe in you, I believe we found loves start,
And all the while we wait for each, we wait with these hollow hearts.
      Only you

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