Nothing ever truly ends

Photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash

I close my eyes

to feel the cold air

touching my lungs

again –

I was warm,

the light was 

so tangled in my hair

that my fingers 

turned to gold.

Everything about it was

a forever could have been.

Back then,

there was a storm

raging

in my heart

and no one heard

the scream,

the thunder.

At night

the walls of my room

were filled with

lightings coming out

of my chest,

but the noise never 

woke anyone up

besides myself.

Everything ended

how all things end:

it didn't.

Think about it,

nothing ever truly ends,

isn't it so?

Yes,

with time

the storm 

turned to drizzle,

the thunders

turned to whispers,

the lightning

turned to dark,

but the core of it all

lives on

in me.

I just had to let go

of the storm

so I could live.

Sometimes,

at nights,

I think of you. 

I close my eyes

and I'm on that bridge again,

the city lights

reflecting 

in the water,

the cold air

smashing 

my lungs.

I'm smiling 

because

I can still hear the thunder.

Nothing ever truly ends

because nostalgia

will carry on

forever

and oh,

how lucky we are

to have lived things

worth feeling nostalgic over.

One of the most nostalgic songs I've ever heard. It fits.

We don't have to live forever

Photo by Yingchih on Unsplash

My arms

shattered

as I slowly

placed them around him.

He whispered

"can I call myself

broken 

if I've never felt

whole?"

I nodded,

yet broken was too much

of a whole

to describe

him.

I leaned over, 

my arms grew back on –

they had to.

There was a lot

left to heal.

Cravings

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Her soul

was dripping 

from his mouth –

there are many kinds

of hungers

and this may just be

the most dangerous one.

We will never be of the same age again

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I always felt like

I was going to die 

young;

yet, as years go by,

I'm slowly losing this bet

I've made against myself. 

So here I am 

living –

still doing things for the first time

like eating sushi,

meeting people,

new places

&

every time

I live something for the first time

I think of you

and how your list

of first things

is never going to grow out

to be more than it was

last November.

The first bite of cake I had

after you died 

was the worst.

Enjoying

the small things

while going on living

felt unfair

to you,

but month after month

I learned to let go

of the guilt.

I've folded the memory of you

and hid it in my heart –

I often take it out

and leave it in the sun

to make sure the dust

won't settle on it.

You're still here,

even though you're not.

You told me

you liked my poems,

I'm sorry this had to be

the one written about you.

Written today while waiting in a hallway. It took me months to finally be able to write these feelings down. I'm sorry. 

Closure

Photo by Mateusz Klein on Unsplash

Your teeth cracked

against my bones –

there's something

evil 

in being so greedy

to feel whole again,

I whispered

to myself.

I didn't even blink

or shudder.

You see,

I was a mountain

of all the never-ending stories

that I got to live

with people who felt more like

ghosts

than anything else. 

A mountain of unfinished... everything –

business, 

words,

plans. 

You should have known better:

mountains never quiver &

it's the anything unfinished

that ruins us

in the end.

Write a song, make a note
For the lump that sits inside your throat.

In a world of chains

Photo by Aditya Ali on Unsplash

In a world of chains
he's hushing his pace away, 
but nobody hears the sound
of him living –
everyone carries on singing,
with each step,
the music of their past. 

We all live dragging chains around –
the trick is to remember
that we once knew
how to dance
enjoying
the music of silence.

Written in the bathtub while listening to this song. 



Take to new heights far above, far above the city lights,
Open your way into the atmosphere,
It's beautiful, it's beautiful what we have here.