"All you can do right now is to just breathe," he said with a caring voice, "I know youre hurting, I know."
"It never stops hurting," she managed to get out between the sobs.
"It will stop eventually," He tried comforting her, "when youre all grown up and sitting in a coffee shop smiling at your half eaten piece of chocolate cake, youll realise that it did stop hurting. You cant exactly recall when it did, but at that moment youll realise that somehow somewhere it did. Right now youre sitting in the middle of the storm, but darling, remember there is a rainbow after every storm. So just learn to love the sound of rain pouring down. Learn to love the howl of the wind. Learn to not fear the cry of thunder. Just listen to the beat of the storm. The beat of your heart. And when youve found that beat, breathe. Breathe, and dance to the rhythm of the music."
She wiped the tears from her eyes, the edge of her sleeves soaking wet. Her eyes red and somehow still beautiful. Taking in a deep breath, she let go as she layed her head on his shoulder. Both knew that silence will continue the conversation.
YOU ARE READING
Chronicles Of Midnight
PoetryComposed of poetry and ideas and scenes from short stories that I probably wont write. A bunch of thoughts that might or might not make sense. #unorganized It gets better the further you read, so just keep reading or skip a few. Me.
