22 years ago you filled the heart of a woman with joy, as she held you in her arms.
Having given birth after holding you for 9 months,
You were her light.
21 years later you filled the heart of another woman with joy.
As you promised to be hers and she yours. The woman of your dreams and you, the man of hers.
Yet by 22, both your two beating hearts were broken.
Still fully intact in its living state,
Yet broken beyond comprehension in love.
Your hearts still beat as one,
Despite the hundreds of miles in between you.
Despite the darkness that now envelopes your night, and the fear that perpetuates her day.
Despite the promises, the memories, the excitement, the love lies still bleeding.
Forgive me, for every word I could not make real. For every promise I could not keep. For every moment that still pains your beautiful soul.
Had I another to give to you, I would. Had I not lost every ounce of me in my fight to reach you, I’d have given you all that was left of me.
But now I am just words. Words, most probably never read by, for the true intended. Just words scrawled from emotions that no longer know how to formulate. Words that speak volumes and silence at the same time.
Happy Birthday, my birthday boy.
May every ounce of happiness this world possesses be granted to you, in the long and blissful life that you have ahead of yourself. Happy birthday x
Perhaps the last poem ever on here. Goodbye.