Sitting alone in your room
The late hours of the night
The early hours of the morning.
Not being able to tell if your eyes sting
Because you’re tired
Or if it’s
Because you cried out all fluids
Or if it’s
Because you still need to cry.
Those lustrous beads welling up
Needed to escape for so long.
And the inky black darkness bordering you
Makes it hard to look past whatever it is
You want to cry about.
And after being torn down so violently
And so fast,
Healing
Is the hardest part.
Your mind becomes nomadic.
It wanders around every memory
Every mistake
Every impression.
Fractured scenes
And dimmed pasts
Find their way
Looming over my ponderous mind.
And still I envision a perfect world
In which no one makes mistakes
And where no one gets hurt.
And my soul tugs at me to go there
But sometimes
It’s better to just
Forgive
And
Love
And then
Eventually heal.