“Courage, dear heart.” – C.S. Lewis
I started writing when it was dark. Then deleted everything. Erased my words, as if I could alleviate the burning ache. As if I could fill the void with my silence and not choke on my own longings. I stood there watching the nightingale overwhelmed with grief, for once again it bled for nothing. How can people be so cruel? (I’m so, so sorry.) I think I’ve fallen in love with a ghost again.
// I think I’m trying to reach for you, trying to hold on, trying to believe, but all there is left is a flickering light barely shining through the cracks.
// I think I hear your voice, when my eyes are closed. I know you can sing, but can you find me?
Sometimes I think I can almost feel your lips on mine. Sometimes when I close my eyes the world isn’t so unforgiving. Sometimes I can almost reach the sun and it barely hurts.