A Million Touches Later You're Finally Here To Stay.

Like phases of the moon, I change the way I see the world. Sometimes it's too much yellow, all bright and beautiful and like the scenes from a ballroom.

And sometimes it's a tired white. With no life left in me to fight. I can feel the sighs of the earth. We share our tears, and I feel safe in her arms.

Every now and then it's green. Fresh and alive, looking like a newly bloomed daffodil. It brings back memories of past summers. A carefree world with a golden undertone.

I also see red sometimes. Like the scream of a banshee and the pain in their eyes. It reminds me of my first heartbreak. Drunk and hurting with heavy eyes, but a heavier heart.

But today all I see is grey. Like the monotonous susurration of the rain, it's killing me slowly, burying me alive. Seeping into me like I am a sponge.

This is why I hate gloomy rainy days.

It feels like I am half dead, but half alive.

I don't know where to belong.

....................................................................................................

The sky keeps pouring outside.

But all that my eyes see are worlds within each drop.

Each one looks so transparent and fragile.

And as they race each other against my window,

I silently cheer for the one that's slow.

Because I know how it feels to be last.

And because I know there's still a chance.

Who knows, maybe when the night becomes alight,

I'll stop seeing the world in blue.

Maybe when the stars come out and paint the sky,

the colours in my head will mix and blend.

And when they do so, I'll wait by the seashore.

Brush in my hand and music on my lips.

Holding my breath, in the fading sunlight.

Susurrations of my heart grows louder,

as I watch the sky being adorned in a soft pink.

© Moonyloonywitch

With a tired sigh, you tell me that life has become pointless now and that you've forgotten how it felt to be alive. You tell me you don't know where to find the next chapter of this monotonous life of yours.

I hope you find it in between your favourite book, with pages folded that remind you of how beautiful life sometimes can be.

I hope you find it the way the flowers in your homemade pots bloom late in the afternoon, spreading a faint fragrance that people will soon come to associate you with.

I hope you find it in the sweetness of the tea that you have in the mornings, just before you walk out to meet your best friend.

I hope you find it in the warmth of your blankets at night, when the moon filters in through the open window and falls on the suncatcher beside your table.

I hope you find it in the familiar tunes of your childhood songs that always adds a little bit of yellow to your eyes.

I hope you find it in the swift winds of the early winter mornings, where the steam from your cup fogs up your glasess as you sit across and smile at the little boy who claims he is Peter Pan.

I hope you find your next chapter in all the tiny nooks and corners of the world that hides the most beautiful moments that this life can come up with.

You know where to look. But you've been looking with your heart closed.

Tired is not even enough to describe the way I feel now. There's emptiness, vastness of it inside me. Yet there's no room to breathe.

No space where my soul can rest and do a little stretch.

Years of existence has piled upon me and now there's hardly any room....for myself.

Days have turned to weeks and weeks to months.

The sparkle of life has quietened down and all that's left is a stubborn heart shaped hollow.

Once filled to the brim with hopes and dreams, now it lays stuck in the sand and long forgotten.

A fossil from the days when the sun used to be kind and the wind was fresh. When I used to be me.

Now? Now it's all a hallucination... Something I feel I used to have but not really...

Fragile is the way you walk along the beach,

looking out at the setting sun.

Fragile is how your voice sound,

when you hum the songs of your dreams.

Fragile is how your eyes look,

when you see a star and wish upon it.

Fragile is you,

sometimes in the morning,

always at night.

But everytime you smile,

fragile becomes my heart.

Everytime you cry,

fragile are my bones.

Fragile has long since stopped being a word to me.

Now it is the state of my being when I am in your arms.

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It doesn't matter if I try or not.

I'll end up in the sky a star.

But what matters is if you'll be there or not.

Beside me, glowing like the sun you are.

All that ever matters is you.

And if I wake up a star and not find you beside me,

know that I'll die over and over again.

A black hole forming at every attempt.

And until I find you I'll keep exploding.

Till I know the warmth on my face is your light.

Maybe that's how galaxies are formed.

Each one an attempt at a love story.

And thus the universe keeps on expanding.

How can it not?

When there are millions of us still searching for love.

© Moonyloonywitch

01/09/2021

“Don’t say maybe if you want to say no.”

— Paulo Coelho

I am sorry I couldn't create a safe place for you.

I am sorry I couldn't be brave enough to let you be you.

I am sorry for all the times I made you say you hate pink (we love it now).

I am sorry for trying too hard sometimes and not trying at all other times.

I am sorry that you had to face all those years alone, without someone to hold you close.

I am sorry for letting you go when I should've held onto you tighter.

I am sorry for thinking that shutting you out will make me feel like I belong somewhere, anywhere.

I am sorry for abandoning you when all you ever had was me.

But now, little one, we are here. You and I, both of us are safe in this space that I have started to call 'heart'.

Cry all you want, I'll hold you. Be fierce, be gentle, be everything that you've wanted to be. I am here and you can be you.

Sweet young child, you're safe in my hands.

And we'll be okay. I love you, and that's all that matters.

To my younger self,

I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that I didn't stop you from harms. I'm sorry that now you're too broken to be put together

It was never your fault. It was never your fault. It was never your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault

in the softness of your voice, telling me that everything is going to be okay.

I belived, in the way your eyes sparkled when I smiled and hugged back.

I believed, that day on our porch, in the love that we shared.

And after so many more such beliefs, here I stand beside your grave. Not knowing what to do or where to go.

I believed you when you said we had an eternity.

We didn't.

You lied.

And I believed.

I believed

Please let him go.

You were not meant to be this way.

You should be glowing, flowing through stars and space.

Not sitting tired in a corner, away from everything.

Away from life.

You have years ahead .

Millennias to conquer.

He is but a fleeting dream.

A flash in the evening sky.

Gone as fast as he came,

Never too close to feel the warmth.

So please let him go.

There's no way he'll come back.

Or think of you.

Or wish you'd wait.

He's gone on.

And now you should do the same.

Let him go.

For far more adventures await you.

And I promise your broken heart will feel less broken,

day by day.

Let him go.

Let him go.

Just let go.