Our dance on the edge was like playing with fire. The space that you left made a room for another.
But not one else will make up for this place, I have not yet laid on your side of my bed.
I still remember that feeling, of making you smile. You fill up the room, without even try.
I want to call you every day, and every hour, but I stop myself from giving in and never return, I remember how it used to burn.
I love you with some space between, I want the warmth but not the bleed.