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Oct 2018
Fabric held between fragile fingers, closed eyes. Faded fabric, Her sweater dripping with watery despair. Suddenly, a violent wave of Her scent brings you to your knees, leaves you gasping for air, the Hole in your Heart burning, blistering and raw. She is so near, so close. Your ribs ache, your lungs cry out, no longer able to withstand the magnitude of your Grief.

Mournful, choking sobs, ones that leave cracks in your Bones, holes in your Skin. Until strong arms grab your shaking shoulders, a soft hand reaches over and gently wipes your Tears. It is warmer, so much warmer, and the air is lighter, as She takes your hand in Hers.

You hold Her tight, tighter than ever before, burying your face in Her shoulder, softly whispering words of Sorrow, Regret; words of Love and Reconciliation. How much you have missed Her, how empty you have been. She nods, She knows, for She too, has felt such pain. She too, has been lost among the loneliness.  

You let Her arms embrace you, Her laughter fills your ears, your heart. Because with Her beside you, Her arms around you, you can feel the shattered pieces start to re-align.

And for the first time since that cold September morning,

You can breathe again.
Grace Conde
Written by
Grace Conde  16/F/New York City
(16/F/New York City)   
     lilliadixon, Fawn and Raven
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