𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐞?
— 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐢 —

she's my first thought in the morning,
the last evening sigh and everything in between.

dusk till dawn my mind is graced with the memories of her, this unreachable queen.

she reeks of an aroma, one that's, in truth, non-existent,

for it's only a part of my imagination, unreal but persistent.

night and day, her frequent absences leave me hollow and void,

and if she were to leave, I'd visibly be absolutely destroyed.

some days I question, what have I come to be?

but some nights,  I wonder if her ears will ever hear my heart's silent plea.