When I met you, you were struggling to pick up
The broken pieces of you she had left scattered all over the place.
You were bruised and scarred and I wanted to hold you and kiss the pain away.
You looked at me and I knew what you felt; I was you once when he tore me apart, I’ve walked the same road you're on.
I know the wild beasts that live there, I've made my peace with them.
You'll meet them too. I know it scares you and
I want to ease your mind, tell you it gets better,
but I know I have to let you figure that out for yourself.
Because that's how you grow,
That's how you become stronger,
That's how you heal.
I can't fix you, and I'm sorry for that,
You are your own saviour.
I'll swallow my feelings for now because this is about you and you only.
This is about you finding the light at the end of the tunnel.
And I won't ask you to walk faster because I'm way ahead of you on this road.
Instead, I'll wait here with open arms.
When you find yourself, you can find me.
When you're ready for it, you can walk with me.

Do you ever think of me on rainy days?
about how I used to tell you
that you reminded me of the latter?
about how the pitter patter of the raindrops,
sounded just like the tears you wiped away?
Sometimes I sit in a coffeeshop and inhale the aroma,
and I swear I see your shadow in the rain.
—J.N

Someone once told me
that butterflies only live for a year
so could you tell the ones you left in my stomach
that they've overstayed their welcome?

After you left, I catch myself running my fingers
over the things you touched the most.
I just want to feel the warmth of your fingertips.
I just want to know if the sound of my heartbeat
still sounds like windchimes to you.
—J.N

my heart you cant know
between my story and yours, my love
lies an ocean majesticly wide
—J.N

You are not the judgement people make of you
Nor are you your supposed flaws
You are not entitled to believe you can't,
Just because they said you couldn't.
You are not the servant,
Of the demons that envelop
Your entire being at 3:45am in
The morning.

Instead

You are the little things in life
That make you happy.
You are a beautiful Sunday morning.
You are the way your eyes sparkle
With happiness when you read a good poem.
You are the chirping of birds at 9am.
You are everything great.

But most importantly,
You are YOU

-JN