Photo by Rose Erkul on Unsplash
...and all of the sudden, it didn’t hurt so much anymore:
your departure; your absence; your empty room.
that sharp pain in the center of my chest had faded.
that deep, penetrating ache you left behind dissipated.
that pulsating anguish vanished without a trace.
all of the sudden, I could fully inflate
my lungs without having to concentrate.
without feeling like I was breathing underwater.
drowning in an ocean of my own tears.
like each molecule in my body had absorbed
so much grief, it was seeping out of every pore
like a leaking sponge.
tears could not do my grief justice,
but all of the sudden… I was smiling again.
it hadn’t seen the light of day in ages –
not since the day you slipped away.
but it felt warm in ways it hadn’t before.
like storm clouds parting and the sun’s rays
peeking through them like blinds that had
been shut for far too long and resting on my face
like the gentle caress of your fingers across my cheek.
I’d almost forgotten what that feels like.
all of the sudden…
life without you became second nature.
like how a rose just knows to reach for the sun.
to grow thorns to protect itself from someone
who might pluck it from the earth before its time is up.
I didn’t have to think about it anymore: living without you.
I just… was.
I am.
You can check out "Second Nature" and more poems in my upcoming chapbook BONE WEAVING, available on Amazon June 11th, 2023. Preorder the eBook here.
In the meantime, check out my other titles below:
Eloquent! I love the visual of the finger across the cheek. 💕
Brilliant and amazing piece to read👏🏽