Everything to my Nothing

People ask me, “Who are you to me?”

You are my candle in a dark room,
The drug to my addiction,
The blood to my heart,
The oxygen to my brain.

You are my Timon when I am Pumbaa,
My candy when I am a child,
My lullaby when I am learning to sleep.

You are maths when I am physics,
The sense inside my chaos,
My Watson when I am lost in thought.

You are mischief in my seriousness,
The balance in my madness.

You are the Joker to my Batman,
My playground, my pub, my club—
And finally, my home.

You are everything
To my nothing.