par·a·dox

My future is as bright as buttercups and if you should place your hand in mine, my happiness will multiply until it fills a house and makes it a home 🩷

I am sorry for everything I have said, or have not said, and will say. For everything I've done and everything I could not do. I am sorry that we'll never see our future, that it's limp and dead in our hands. I am sorry that I can't fix this, and I'm sorry for the flood, and I'm sorry that our home was only a home for just a little while instead of forever. I had hoped for a whole lifetime with you, and I'm sorry that we'll never grow old together, and I'm also sorry that we never knew each other as children. I am sorry that I am not strong enough to weather this storm or to carry this pain. This story has ended. I am sorry this story has ended.

"Welcome back, wretched thing". The gods tell me that I have won my freedom, but I am a ghost here. I want to tell them that I am descending into a deep, deep, madness that I may never return from. That I am a wound, a wildfire, a disease at its strongest. All the lights have gone out and there's no home to hold me. I wonder where she has left to and why she has taken my heart.

My grief gnaws on me like some wild animal caught in a trap whose freedom only comes at the cost of a limb. All is lost again, don't you know it? My pain takes me back to the forest. I am left in the bramble and the dirt and the dark. I think that is where such a creature belongs, don't you believe that? Alone. Alone. Alone.