Dear my forever intoxicating T,

I don't think I ever deeply loved you.

For some reason, that didn't matter to me.

I guess I liked how our chemistry grew,

the words that would flow through our eye contact.

How I would always tell you everything

and somehow never cared how we would act.

You played your guitar just to hear me sing.

The kind of guy only books can describe.

You smoked cigarettes but scolded me

because you said smoking "just wasn't my vibe".

The way you hugged me and spoke so softly

was what made your absence hard to believe.

You've left our street and me so you, I grieve.