Already done.

 

The trees are all bent,
The wind is howling over,
The storm is yet to come,
But the damage is already done.

I offer you peace but you give me conflict,
I bleed my heart out, but yours is running dry,
The battle cry hasn’t been given yet,
But your guard is already up.

The soldiers are ready,
The Cavalry is on guard,
The war hasn’t started yet,
But the bloodshed is already done.

Darling, I never meant to start a war.
But now I’m going to end it.

Coming home.

Dear You,

I have been driving endlessly, through valleys that are deeper than the highest mountains I have climbed. Through sunrises and sunsets, some lasting longer than the other.

Sleep is now a distant friend, so I carry on my journey alone. Often, I reach out my hand to hold yours, only to be reminded of your absence.

Voids the size of the Milky Way stare back at me.
So I wonder, how an empty heart can feel so heavy.

I thought I was running away from the mess I created. Driving away from you and your thoughts. But they’re all staring at me from the backseat.

Gently reminding me of the pain that has attached itself to me.

I want to come back home,
I want to come back to you.

But I am lost.
And I don’t think these roads can ever lead me back.

In Mourning.

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Today I mourn,
All the things that I lost.
Things that never belonged to me in the first place.
I’ll list it in no particular order,
So here it goes.

Love.
Dreams.
Happiness.
And laughter.

Children.
Peace.
Joy.
And a happily ever-after.

Of all the things I lost and
The ones that left me feeling like a ghost,
You come a close second.
But if I’m being honest, I miss myself the most.

Living dead

We don’t just bury the dead.

Sometimes those alive are laid to rest too,

In ways that we never thought we would.

Some days we bury their thoughts,

Unbearably beautiful, warm hands that kept yours safe.

Other days we bury their photos,

Unable, unwilling to delete them.

On others we dig deep holes and drop their words,

Their love and smile always follows.

Some days we bury our lives spent together,

But on most days, we quietly bury ourselves.

Since you’ve been gone

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Dear You,

I’m beginning to wonder if you’re even reading this. Are my words reaching you? Are they providing you any solace at all?

How was your day? I ask far too many questions but I’m not nosy, I’m just wondering how you are.

I hope you get enough sleep these days. Tell me, has winter reached your doorstep yet?

I wonder if I should even post this letter. Or do I let it get lost in this huge world where unrequited love lives in every corner?

I’ve been thinking about you.

I close my eyes and remember your smile. The way your hand felt in mine – warm and soft. The way my heart slowed down as you held me close in your sleep, even when you snored heavily in my ears.

I have never felt yearning as I have since you’ve been gone. I have tasted it in the long evenings, as the sun slowly set.

I have felt it during a lonely lunch, surrounded by beautiful friends; On the way back home, in the elevator and in my room. I have crossed the road with it, as it held on to my dress, scared it would be left behind.

And then, on some days it feels like I’m drowning, on others I barely make it to the surface.

So if you ever get this letter, know that I miss you more than I can ever explain. Know that you’ve left a hole so big in my life that all the cold is beginning to seep in.

There’s so much more I’d like to ask you, darling,

But I’ll only end with this,

Won’t you come back home, please?

Hello darling, how are you?

Dear You,

I’m writing with the hope that you’re fine and well, alive enough to read my letter. Alive not just physically, in a way that your heart is beating fine and your organs are working just the way they should. But alive enough to soak in the wonder that is all around you.

So you’ve had your heart broken, wouldn’t really be the first time, would it? Will it be the last? Perhaps. Maybe not.
Don’t sulk, isn’t a broken heart a sign of one that was loved anyway? I didn’t make that up, I read it somewhere.
That’s where I get my wisdom from these days — conversations of strangers, random comments by people on social media and some very old books.
Strange places to find solace, isn’t it? Not the books though, they always find a way to soothe my weary soul.

Sorry, I have a way of losing track.
So, while the world seems like a terrible place to live in, especially now that you’re nursing a broken heart, I want to remind you to be a little more kind to everyone. But you’ll first have to start with yourself.
Allow yourself to cry, and when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, gently remind yourself that you can, you will and you already are.

Be strong, be kind and be gentle.
Say please, thank you and sorry when you have to.
Wash your feet and face before going to bed.
And remember you might feel broken right now,
But you’ve never been more whole.