Starlit Nights

11:04pm

9:59pm

00:05am

10:27pm

Relegated to darkness; our connection never allowed to see the light of day.

Thank the guilt for that, perhaps circumstance.

We burned too brightly then, now, so much less deserving.

Still we linger, clinging to that promise of darkness.

Never chancing dusk; never daring morning.

I’ll take it.

I’ll take any time with you.

The stars we traded from sunlight will have to do.

I just wish us many more starlit nights and moonbeams, my love.

May the darkness hold us close and cherish our secrets as much as we do.

Hope this finds you well,

-L

September Melancholy

My pen bleeds onto paper ever September.

Melancholy is my muse.

To millions, this month is a beginning; to me, it’s always a goodbye.

The seasons change and drag us along with them. As the leaves turn from green to yellow, and then to brown, my mood begins the same change.

Perhaps I’ll always be sad in the fall; who wouldn’t be if they’d lived the same autumns that I have.

Missing, always. Madness too.

The leaves dry, as do my tears.

I wish to crumple up with them on the ground and let September pass me by while my pen bleeds me dry.

Hello, September.

Goodbye.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Consistency

Consistency from you is eternally painful, yet I wish, hope, dream, and pray for it anyways.

I hate that I need it but I love that even now, you never let me down.

Steadiness is your nature.

I wonder where I’d be without a dose of it every September.

You, still the only one who remembers my birthday year after year.

This one kindness sustains me and keep my confidence alive.

Patience is not something I possess but I never have to wait for you; you always show up for me.

I’ll be waiting for you next year; consistency.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

My Terracotta Heart

Here I am, hoping, with my terracotta heart.

Hoping, once again, that one fall will be too little to send shards of my heart flying through the air.

Too many times I’ve gathered the pieces together and swept the floor.

The only cleaning ritual that ends without satisfaction.

There is no relief at the sight of neat piles and clean floors, only the knowledge of the work that now looms overhead.

Reconstruction.

Reconfiguration.

Refortification.

All so I can sit and hope again.

This time maybe I’ll wish too, with my terracotta heart.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Indefinite

You asked me once how I healed from a breakup, and I told you it was time that took care of it. In a way, that’s true. That’s not what it feels like sometimes.

So what does it feel like sometimes?

At the halfway point between my home on the farm and my home in the city, alone in my car: that’s when I feel it the most.

It feels like I’m living without half of me. It feels like I’m always searching and waiting. It feels like I’m looking for something that I can’t quite put my finger on. It feels like my heart has been cleaved in two; or like it has gone missing from my chest- I can feel where it used to be. It’s excruciating. It’s indefinite.

I have lied to my heart and have told my soul a fairytale. I have convinced myself that I believe in soulmates and dimensions. I need to. I cling to my hope that in another dimension we’ve found our way back to each other; that our ragged edges have met and joined again. In another lifetime, perhaps, our paths have crossed with better timing and the fates have kinder plans for us.

A love like ours cannot have been for nothing. The sheer amount of it can’t have just faded away into nothing. Surely the laws of physics apply to love, for what is love if not energy? It feels consuming and electric. I need to believe that it still exists out there somewhere. The heartbreak cannot be larger and longer-lasting than the love that caused it.

These are the lies I tell myself. They must be working and maybe I have successfully fooled myself. It doesn’t always hurt and I go about my life as an ordinary person. But, oh, those moments. They take my breath away and I feel like half a person, a hollow shell, like only arms and legs. I have no heart, for you have it still. I can tape together the edges where it once was and I can pretend.

If only reality and fates and fairytales could meet with kindness. Until then, and until another lifetime, our souls exist only as halves; incomplete.

I know you feel it too, you’ve told me so. That doesn’t make it any easier, even if that’s what you had hoped those words would accomplish.

It’s indefinite.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

Even in the Night

Darkness recognizes darkness.

That’s my theory on why I can’t seem to sleep until it’s light out.

While lying awake at night, I relish the thoughts of just going for a drive, going for late night/early morning McDonald’s, going out and about in the stillest of hours. At night it feels like I can do anything or be anyone.

Yet, as much as my bed often feels like a refuge, it feels like it has walls closing in as soon as the light begins to fade. Walls close in as the darkness quickens.

Sleep never comes easy at night but as the dawn breaks, I’m able to drift away securely.

The darkness in my mind and in my heart recognizes darkness and waits to conquer me once I close my eyes.

Half of this battle is working my entire life around this. In that, I have succeeded. I have worked one entire year of night shifts and have slept soundly during the daylight.

The darkness has all but put out my light.

How can darkness be at once still and freeing, yet heavy and suffocating?

I’m tired of the dark but it still feels safer, though only while awake.

I wish and wish for that eternal darkness where there is no need to worry about waking or sleeping; about dawn or dusk. For that I would go to sleep gladly, even in the night.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

If Not Love

Spending time with family used to bring me a little slice of contentment and peace, just knowing they were safe and happy was all it took.

Now it slowly slices off pieces of my heart. They are happy and safe, and they feel contentment and peace. I feel years removed from them. Their joy is no longer my joy. Time spent together is like rubbing salt in a wound, like hand sanitizer on paper cuts.

I spent so much of my life protecting them and shielding them and all I get for it is pain and faked smiles.

I was invited over for supper and by the time I got there, everyone had already eaten and the supper was cold. Their uncaring sliced deep. They were a family without me. I had worked thanklessly over Thanksgiving while they all spent time with loved ones but I did not get the same courtesy.

I spend so much time picking out presents for them that they will need or will find useful and I get not a one in return. My only gift this year was a jar of lotion in a scent that makes me nauseous, from my mother who doesn’t even like me.

It’s just one thing after another. There’s been times where I haven’t felt loved, but I’ve never felt so unloved.

I’ve always hoped to feel love from my family; true unconditional love. Now I don’t think I ever will.

I’ve loved them with my whole heart for my entire life.

I suppose I stuck with life partly because I always hoped I’d eventually feel love and that my family would feel like warmth and security. Family has been my safety plan for 20 years.

That’s what the books say, isn’t it? Have a safety plan. Create a safety plan. Have your friends help you make a safety plan.

Mine has been crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, and now it’s finished.

What is there left to live for, if not love?

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Hope this finds you well,

-L

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If you or someone you know needs support right now, there is help available.

http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Tired

When does the tired stop?

When does the tired come to an end?

When does the joy of living join my life and outweigh the tired?

Tired of being awake.

Tired of being in pain.

Tired of hurting.

Tired of wishing.

Tired of hoping.

Tired.

I’m tired of waiting for the sun to peek over the omnipresent clouds.

I’m tired of waiting for the relief of a painless deep breath; for a resurfacing from the dragging, heavy, cold water.

I’m tired of tired.

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Hope this finds you well,

-L