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Where love, heartbreak, and healing live in words
saying “i would’ve set myself on fire if you told me to”was never meant to be taken literally it meanti would have abandoned myselfto keep you warm you took it as permission and i didn’t even notice the fire at first that’s the terrifying part it felt warmit felt like being wantedit felt like finally…
I used to think healing would arrive as absence that one morning I would wake up and your name would no longer live inside my body like a second pulse but that isn’t what happened instead— life grew around the missing piece like roots learning the shape of a stone and I moved with it…
I hope I haunt you. At first, gently— in the quiet places, in the steam of your morning coffee, in the seconds before sleep when the world goes still enough for me to slip back in. I hope you miss me there. Not enough to break you— just enough to notice the absence you created.…
no one told me how to mourn the version of myself that didn’t survive not in the way people understand survival because I was still here still waking up still breathing still moving but something in me was gone and the world kept turning like nothing had changed no flowers no quiet rooms no voices…
I woke up thinking about you. Again. I prayed for it to stop— sat in church asking for peace, for quiet, for just one moment where you didn’t live in my head. But you were still there. And going through everything I’ve written— all the memories— it pulled me right back. To you. To what…
why isn’t therea ceremony for the lossof a heart we gatherwhen someone dies we bring flowerswe speak softlywe honor what was but what aboutthe kind of lossthat happens quietly when something in youstops breathing and no one sees it where do you goto pay respects to the version of youthat didn’t make it the one…
