Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
In my search for closure, I have noticed the days are growing colder while my soul keeps getting older. An empty bed when I roll over, the weight of the world lay rest upon my shoulders.

I have turned the page, erased the story, and started over. Been on the brink of losing my composure and letting the demons start taking over.

In my search for closure, I have emptied my heart, filled the cup, and spilt it over. I have locked the door and hit the lights, with thoughts like β€œmaybe darkness can bring me closer”.

So, in the end I came to learn that closure is not a term, nor a word, it holds no magic to heal the hurt; it cannot take your scent off my shirts. It cannot bring me peace that I do not deserve.

So, I close my eyes and muster courage to accept that each moment was perfect, because every second was worth it, and every heart holds a purpose. To break then to mend, to be stronger now then you ever were then.
Written by
Brett  28/M/NYC
(28/M/NYC)   
42
   Her Hardest Hue, --- and V
Please log in to view and add comments on poems