Heartbeat for You
by @manuel78 on Manuel
View my bio on Blurt.media: https://blurt.media/c/manuel78 
- lyrics by me plus lyric generator
- story made using the lyrics made with Ai
- heart beat for you - lyrics
sigh . how can I go a day without you . the days are long the days are hard with out your voice with out your touch with out your embrace . Everyday .
there has to be you and only you there with me to make me smile & full of happiness . love you are my life my one true desire i crave hourly daily yearly i yern for your touch
. i Just don’t feel the same like before you entered my life no more now my heart beats for only you no one else makes my heart beat like this .
my love my true soulmate im forgetting how my heart felt before i met you love . Now I miss you each & everyday .
every breath is for you every heart beat beats just for you every thought before and after bed revolves around you my sweet chancla and my thoughts are about my lil marshmellow .
story made with lyrics using Ai
My Sweet Chancla, My Lil Marshmellow
The morning alarm was a knife . It didn’t wake Leo so much as it sliced open the fragile seam of sleep , releasing the emptiness back into the room . He lay there , the first conscious thought arriving with a physical weight on his chest . sigh . how can I go a day without you .
Getting out of bed was an act of engineering . He moved through the motions in his apartment , which now felt less like a home and more like a museum dedicated to a person who was absent . The silence was the loudest thing . It wasn’t peaceful . It was an aggressive void where her voice should have been . He made coffee , the single mug a stark accusation on the counter . the days are long the days are hard with out your voice with out your touch with out your embrace . It was a triplicate of absence . The voice that could talk him down from any ledge with a silly joke . The touch that grounded him , a hand on his arm that felt like a circuit completing . The embrace that was his personal sanctuary , a place where the world’s sharp edges softened .
Before her , his days had been a series of tasks . They had length , but not texture . Now , each hour had a granular quality of endurance . He went to work , he answered emails , he spoke to people , but he was a ghost operating a machine . True existence , he had learned , was conditional . Everyday . there has to be you and only you there with me to make me smile & full of happiness . Happiness wasn’t a default setting anymore . It was a state generated exclusively by her presence . A smile , a real one that reached his eyes and lightened his bones , was not something that just happened . It was a gift she gave him , triggered by her laugh , her observations , the way she’d look at him across a room .
He had thought he understood desire before . He’d desired success , a nicer car , a quiet weekend . Elara had redefined the term , raising it from a want to a need , from a need to a fundamental requirement for life . love you are my life my one true desire i crave hourly daily yearly i yern for your touch . The craving was circadian . Hourly , he’d glance at his phone , hoping for a message . Daily , he ached for the shared rhythm of their evening routine . Yearly , he dreamed of a future built from accumulated days together . The yearning was a constant hum in his blood , a low-grade fever for which her touch was the only cure .
This realization had reshaped his entire personal history . He looked back at the man he was , the Leo Before Elara , and that person felt like a stranger in a story he’d once read . i Just don’t feel the same like before you entered my life no more now my heart beats for only you no one else makes my heart beat like this . His heart had been a reliable pump , a biological metronome keeping time for a solitary life . Now , it was an instrument that only played for her . It skipped when she texted . It hammered when she was near . It ached , this very moment , with a steady , mournful thud in the cavity of his chest . Others were just people . She was the conductor .
The past was fading , overwritten by the brighter , more vivid file of their love . my love my true soulmate im forgetting how my heart felt before i met you love . What was it like to not miss someone ? To have a thought that didn’t inevitably spiral back to her ? To feel a joy that wasn’t tied to her approval or shared experience ? He couldn’t recall . It was like trying to remember the feeling of being cold while standing in the sun . That previous , paler life was being erased , pixel by pixel , by the overwhelming vividness of her .
And so , his present was defined by a single , pervasive verb : to miss . Now I miss you each & everyday . It wasn’t a dramatic , weeping missing ( though that happened sometimes in the crushing quiet of the night ) . It was a functional missing . It was missing her as he chose a shirt , wondering if she’d like it . Missing her as he passed the bakery that made her favorite croissants . Missing her in the middle of a meeting , a sudden , vivid memory of her smile making the conference room feel surreal .
His entire biology had been recalibrated in her image . every breath is for you every heart beat beats just for you . It sounded like poetry , but it felt like anatomy . Inhaling was drawing in a world that contained her . Exhaling was releasing a prayer that it would bring her closer . The lub-dub in his chest was no longer just a function ; it was a chant . Her name . Her name . Her name .
She was the alpha and the omega of his thoughts . every thought before and after bed revolves around you . The last conscious drift before sleep was a replay of her voice , the sound of her saying his name . The first foggy emergence was an immediate search for her warmth on the other side of the bed , the disappointment a daily baptism . His mind had become a planet in a stable orbit around a single , brilliant star .
And in the center of that orbit were his secret names for her , the silly , tender codes that contained universes of feeling . my sweet chancla and my thoughts are about my lil marshmellow . ‘ Chancla ’ had started as a joke , when she’d playfully threatened him with her slipper during an argument about movie choices . It had morphed into a term of utmost affection , symbolizing her playful fierceness , the comfortable , domestic weapon of her love . ‘ Lil marshmellow ’ was her core – the soft , sweet , yielding center that was so profoundly her , the part that melted against him when they hugged , that made her gentle and kind and safe .
He stood now at his window , watching the city lights blink on as dusk fell . The apartment behind him was full of her things , waiting . A book she was reading on the side table . A hair tie on the bathroom sink . They were relics , anchors to a ship that was temporarily at sea . The emptiness was still there , the silence still loud .
But as he watched a plane’s light trace a path across the darkening sky , he didn’t just feel the missing . He felt the truth of the beat . The breath for her . The heart for her . The thoughts that would , until she was back in his arms , revolve and revolve and revolve around his sweet chancla , his lil marshmellow . The days were long . They were hard . But they were all in service of the next heartbeat , the next breath , the next thought that would bring her closer , until the day the missing finally , blissfully , stopped .