sight_unseen
The clouds come
Bleak as always.
The leaves drop,
The nights chill.
The coolness contagious,
Always calling to some part of me;
Begging me to join.
To exist in the cool, the grey, the bleak.
To forget the warmth of the sun
And the joy of living.
To drown in the changing seasons and to let them drag me under with them.
Will I let them?
Should I let them?
.
.
.
-L
The leaves start to fall,
It’s August.
The mornings are cool,
The winds are changing.
Blowing in fall crispness,
And another autumn in my heart.
Preparing for the end,
A beginning without you.
It feels impossible that the cool chill will come without the warmth of you in my life.
How did we get here?
Again.
Our own dreamland.
All good affairs must come to an end.
.
.
.
-L
What would it be to live without you?
At this point I don’t want to know.
My life was dark before I met you
And you were the brilliant sun.
Why would I even want to consider going without those sunny days,
though now they are few and far between.
Infusing me with warmth still to this day,
I live for those sunny days.
Dreadful though the following cloudy days may seem,
the momentary gleam is worth any darkness.
One day, perhaps the darkness won’t be so suffocating;
perhaps you won’t be the only ever-present sun.
Until then,
I don’t want to know.
.
.
.
Hope this finds you well,
-L.
I can’t wait for you anymore.
Not in dreams,
In sleeping,
Not at midnight.
Yet still, I will.
For you, I’d wait an eternity,
For our inevitability- forever.
You’re that missing piece of my soul so how could any wait be too long?
How could I not wait when you keep coming back to me?
I’ll be there.
I’ll meet you at midnight.
I’ll keep waiting.
.
.
.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
Here you are again,
Meeting me in dreams.
Dreams that try to blur reality
But the harshness of daylight takes no prisoners.
Meeting you in dreams,
Again,
Feels like finally being able to breathe;
Feels like the missing piece of my soul has clicked back into place.
It’s better than any high a drug could offer me.
It’s because I’ve never loved anyone as much as I loved that boy, that you, that us.
Love that strong lingers and now spans decades.
Hopefully it reaches across dimensions and lifetimes to others where we stay together and the fates are kinder to us.
Dreaming you,
Again,
Is a sweet torture unlike any other.
Midnight texts from you feel similar.
Wishing, always wishing, that goodbye could have meant forever and that we wouldn’t have entered this limbo.
Wishing that reality wasn’t so harsh that my subconscious pulls you to me to soothe my ragged edges and give me comfort I find only in dreaming of you,
Again.
.
.
.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
I want to die again
Thanks, December.
The year weighing heavily on me;
The new one even heavier.
The sins of the past,
The mistakes of the future.
Digging myself out or digging myself under?
Time passing me by,
Life drifting on its way.
Here I stay,
No longer moving forward.
Always looking behind,
Stuck dreading ahead.
Trying to breathe through the fog I feel in my soul.
Maybe next December.
.
.
.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
If you are thinking of suicide there is help available. In Canada call 9-8-8.
Is it killing me quickly or killing me slowly?
Killing me,
Regardless.
Squeezing the air from my lungs,
Dulling all colours to grey;
Killing me.
How long can I go without breathing full breaths?
How much longer without a good night’s rest?
My soul slowly being dragged down to the dirt as the last of my breath leaves me.
Leaving only this ache in my chest,
Killing me.
.
.
.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
There are resources available if you are thinking of suicide or self harm : https://findahelpline.com
I feel like I’m living in a glass house; like everyone walking by me can see me falling apart, can see the hole in my chest, and can see how much of a wreck I am.
Because of you.
I can’t let people close to me, I can’t let them in.
They might take one look at my tired eyes and see right through me.
They might see all this pain,
This turmoil,
These crashing waves.
They might see it all.
The hopelessness of never seeing dawn again after this darkness.
The wishing, the waking, the wanting.
The waiting.
Waiting for this grief I live in to overwhelm me for good and to take me away,
Away from this glass house.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
Home to me was never a place,
Always a feeling.
I let you in and
Then
Home had a center again.
It had its own gravitational pull.
I wanted to be home all the time.
Without you in my life,
Except for one month out of the year,
Wanting to go home becomes excruciating.
I want to go home.
Since home became a person,
I’ve never truly had a home.
I still have yet to find one,
My mind and body still yearning for you;
For home.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
Every September, here you come again.
Here to drag my heart around:
Down the roads we used to drive,
Through the fields we used to farm,
Over the couches we used to kiss on,
Around the sunlit days we used to fall in love.
Dragging.
Bruised and sore, but willing nonetheless.
Is it really dragging or
Perhaps pulling;
Carrying.
I’d follow you and memory lane anywhere.
Hope this finds you well,
-L
Sight Unseen 