Where Love Heals

For a long time

I thought healing would arrive
like weather.

A clean front moving through.

One morning I would wake
and the sky inside me
would be different.

Your name would no longer pull
at the tide.

The memories would settle
like dust at the bottom of a river.

I waited for that season.

I mistook forgetting
for freedom.

But love is stranger than that.

There are stars
that died before we were born,
their light still crossing galaxies
to reach us.

Maybe the heart works
the same way.

Maybe some loves continue
not because they belong
to our future,

but because they altered
the shape of our sky.

You entered my life
when I was still standing
among ruins,

taking inventory
of everything I thought
had been lost.

You did not rebuild anything.

You did not rescue me.

You simply walked through the wreckage
as though it were still sacred ground.

And after enough years
of believing I was broken,

being seen that way
felt like watching the sun return
to a world that had forgotten
morning was possible.

Jacque

PS. If you’re reading this, thank you. I know a lot of my poetry is about the current state of my broken heart. Please bare with me as I’m doing my best to move forward. I know that I’m not stuck in this place permanently. Thank you for being here. I appreciate and love you. 🫶🏻