The cold is exhausting, preempting the spring that is long overdue. Your departure has torn holes in my insides, leaving a dilapidated soul to stand on her own, rendering her defenseless as it reconstructs in solitude taking refuge in fabricated delusions of happiness. Your spirit has abandoned my world. Your love now hollow and empty, cold and unmoving. The space you occupied has melted – down into the abyss of past lovers who no longer speak my name. My want for you is enormous, much like the shades of grey that lie beneath the soil in their desire to be green and fruitful in the aftermath of spring. Be still my breaking heart and rise above this sea – watch me as I take apart my sadness and lift myself to grace.
by: Angela Rachelle