m o o o o n

It is incredulous - the persistence of grief. Its endurance almost outlives my patience. Stretched across a burning wound, with a fire that never seems to dry out of embers. I am tired, exceedingly so. It would be so much easier to let go, so much lighter to fall and never get back up. But I hold on still, to the fading thread of hope. As long as I'm alive, I will keep chasing the light, to the end.

you are all the beautiful sunsets morphed into a summer song.

I'll come back. When darkness persists & sadness chokes me from behind and nameless nightmares chase me into unknown doors of despair and lock me in - I'll still find my way back. Through mountainous stretches and haunting hills, through snowstorms and lashing rain, through bleeding pavements and slippery slopes. I'll come back. This, I promise you. I might be a bit bruised and a bit weary, tired and sucked dry but I will be there. At the end of the day. I will make my way back to you. So close your eyes and dream for a while in case I disappear again, for when you open them, I'll be right beside you.

The realisation came like whiplash - even the sweetest memory was nothing but a blur in the darkness. I hold you dearer than my own heart but my hands grow tired after holding you for a while. Begs for solitude. Reminds me that nothing is as constant as change. I am sorry. I adore you with all of my bleeding heart. Your laughter is my favourite song on repeat. But I am tired and light is losing its hold. I'll come back when my hands are lighter and eyes softer. Till then, au revoir.

I started writing as a way of release. An anchor that keeps me grounded, regardless of the ocean's rage. But there are times when i bore holes into the blank page laid out in front of me - because there seemed to exist words that even the pen trembles at.

You fear death when you're awake, but it's closest to you when you're asleep.