I stopped writing on purpose.
When my thoughts are with you,
I hold dear my wings.
They are a piece of you, a piece of me,
and let us fly through the cosmos together.
But whenever I reach the end of a letter,
you are gone,
and I am landed.
My wings are a heavy burden–
dragging behind me,
keeping me from others.
It is a lonely feeling
built in the core of my heart.
It is an anguished weight,
keeping me down.
So I have decided
to simply start
In the silence between heartbeats,
I miss my wings, our connection,
But there’s a rhythm to the loss,
a strut to the pain,
and I’m dancing my way to others.
It’s a dirty pathway,
not the open skies,
but I have two feet on the ground
and they are walking towards a future
with happy poetry
and no strangers at all.
The night before Valentine’s day is the definitely the time for re-visiting sad-happy love poetry. Right?