The Blood & The Bones

• hope •

it took years to break me
but now I know
I am not who I was
and I am not sure who I will become
but I will be filled with love again someday
the kind of love that quiets rage
and more than fear or facade
or anything my tired soul can manage
hope tells me that even now
when I am unsure of what I am made of
I am still good enough to press on

the blood
& the bones

It’s been almost 5 months since they put the last nail in my coffin. I touched your forehead and the soft skin on your cheek just before the last breath escaped your lungs. I could not save you. And that day when they lowered you into the ground I felt that I went too. No one will ever understand what those few months did to me.

They all think I’m so resilient. They have no idea that every day was one more nail in the box that was years in the making until the final one. And I thought I was strong too. Until I had to be the shoulder for all when there was no shoulder for me to lean on.

And it’s not self-pity that I’m feeling. It’s defeat. It’s death that sits on my chest because I tried everything to bring you back and I failed. I’ll never forgive myself.

And that is why I am no longer who I was. And that is why I don’t know who I will become. I just feel like I’m full of bullet holes still holding metal, wounds that won’t heal. But I smile at everyone and I pretend that I didn’t take it that hard or that I’m ok. I always say I am ok. That I am the strongest amongst them all because someone has to be right? Someone must or we all fall. But I am tired. So very tired. And there is no one here to rest beside. No one to catch me if I fall.

I know I’ll be OK. I will grow around the grief like trees grow around things left discarded against them. I just need time… Time which heals and yet also replays all the images in my head. A double edged sword is all I have to lean upon. Hope tells me it won’t always hurt so much and I can’t wait for that day to come.