Does the sun become tired of being hot all the time?
Could the sun exist beside the moon?
Why does my goodbye not feel real like I am not ever able to let go of anything?
We are all like candles about to burn out.
Goodbyes are hard enough to say, but made easy with a shiny gift.
I miss it all, even the grey clouds of those dark days.
Better than a world when I am told not to breathe.
My medicine is my music, arranged neatly for each trauma.
I cannot go back, can never fully attach to the person I was.
Because I am moving forward, even when I’m tied to the past; the world moves with me.
I remember walking alone on those winter afternoons, the cold wind freezing my bones.
So afraid that I wouldn’t make it to the station, so afraid that the coldness would hold me in a perpetual wintry standstill.
I’d look up into the skies and see so many colours, purple, pink and gold like soft powders against a softer white sun.
I’d see the birds like elegant silhouettes perched on the powerlines and I’d think for a second maybe I was home.
I remember feeling so much hope for the moment thinking I wasn’t alone but remembering that I would have to fight my mind when the moon sunk.
Taking videos of the trains that swiped past my eyes like bullets rattling the tracks, a splash of blue and silver.
I believed that if I captured the moment, I would forever remember the moment but I cannot.
I always thought I’d be holding hands with all past selves of my life, I thought I was impervious to the bullet of time.
My pride was my drug, my poison and my complete and utterly miserable downfall.
The trains only went one way, they wouldn’t be coming back for me, I wouldn’t have it my way.
I was never truly in the present, I was always moving forward, never finding a single thing to hold on to.
And the fear that drove me under the blanket of sadness made me cry everytime I’d look at the moon.
It becomes harder to move forward when you can find no foothold in the moment, nothing to take away the feeling of the growing loneliness and the shrinking courage.
Times when I felt that the world would consume me or the sky fall on me but at least the doubt would leave my mind.
Wondering if there was a mind like mine that was born to suffer, to live and smile in the face of death that I knew depended on a single breath.
My words were fire and lightning, they danced with the music of the waves crashing against the sand on the beach.
I found myself torn between two worlds: an Inferno and a Paradise and I asked GOD to watch over my breaking soul.
I turned my world upside down in my unbelief and took for granted that one thing that made the suffering seem sweet and purposeful.
But I needed it, I needed to move forward into that battleground because what I wanted most was the thing I couldn’t see nor touch.
I realised the value of my life when I came so close to wanting to lose it all for some fleeting emotion that has flew by my mind like a swift bird.
And sometimes in my daydreams, I think about how I would have lived it if I could live it again.
You cannot begin to understand the beauty of a pure soul and a honest mind even when it is so easy to listen to words of false joy.
I may not be able to hold on to the memories of that purple and gold sunset, I may forget those walks against the bone-chilling winds.
But I love that girl, and whoever I become I will continue to love who I once was because where would I be if I didn’t move forward even when I had nothing to hold onto.
I know that I will find a mind like mine who seeks to know and hold on to that invisible feeling of eternal hope, of strength and reassurance even when I know that tomorrow might be my last day.