Posted in letters, life, Poems, thoughts

the truth

I know you must go

but I can’t bring myself to let you.

I always cling to what I have

in hopes, I won’t die empty handed,

weak

weeping with the willows,

wilting with the roses,

rotting with the words I never spoke.

Dare I tell you

how much this pains me

to calculate the days

till you take flight?

It is bitter to me

the passing of a spark of warmth,

it was here, so close to you,

that I felt I had a place

to heal

myself

                     this world

                                              you.

You told me once

in the tap tap of cellphone keys

that I was honest,

vulnerable,

wise.

Have I ever been wise?

Have I ever known?

All I am is words,

delusions,

a composition of illusions.

If I am honest

why do I feel so translucent?

You told me to be bold,

to never stop being bold;

How can I be bold

when you are but a breath away

from me and my sorrow?

Falling apart

unraveling

unwinding

Have I lost my sanity?

The truth is you can’t go

because I don’t want you to

but

You must go because you need to.

Till we meet again, my sparrow.

-Eva M.M.

“Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”

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Author:

I am a young and enthusiastic writer, fresh out of highschool and into college at IUSB. I babysit and work and live life to it's fullest. I write. I read. I do yoga. And plan to become. Yoga intructers as well. I grew up on a farm and can't,t wait to move back to the country in my tiny house I have already planned out. Sometimes I'm a little melodramatic but rarely. I'm a spiritual healer, a hopeless romantic, a book worm, and very nostalgic. Thanks for stopping by.

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