Being here now, it feels like I've already lived it all. I can't trade all the beautiful cries, the sad laughter, the joyful smile, nor the littlest change I've come to know, love and feel for anything else.
There was this time when 'unloved' felt unnatural. But it was just for a while. I realized that after all, if nothing else feels right to anyone about loving someone, what's the use to being drained by it. I realized that person who left just did you good, you know; they could've faked it or told lies to keep it real, but they didn't—and that's what really counts. They did leave, yes, but they did because it would've been hard for both of you. No need to sweat it. After all, we all have what it takes to be loved by another person...Just another soul that tingles the same way as us. For us.
These days life hasn't been that hard; it hasn't been much of a chore like it used to. These days the shelfs look more alive to me because I don't keep them anymore.
Books. Pages. Lines.
Who knows? I might not have to keep bottled feelings only to scribble endlessly on dying ink. And dusty tables,and ruffled papers, continuously found in the bin next to me, by that little corner. This space has been my whole world for so long, it could actually be me. So maybe I have lived the life of a writer after all, if only for just these few years. And perhaps writing was my therapy; a subconscious effect to thinking out loud... Just in paper.
Being here now, I could never ask for anything less, but I will look forward for more; for there are countless journeys I still wish to embark on; things to hold; people to see, and love to give. So it is at this point that I say life has been lived, not without regrets, but with a soothed heart even with them there. And there's nothing in the world I wished more.
This isn't a goodbye, no; it's a see you. A see you I hope will bring many countless memories to mind when we meet again, maybe someday, in another space, another place.
But I hope it isn't when you're broken too.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers From The Dark
PoesiaIt all started with one person -the bane of my existence. And from there, the whole random package. This has to be the deepest emotions I've felt penned down in one single book-did i break that person or did I end up broken?
