My Pretty Sun,

My Dearest Lover,

where have you gone lately?

I lay in bed , alone

passing each day after another

wondering what has become of you…

I miss your lips on mine …

I miss you so much,

everything aches inside…

The loss I feel is so deep,

I can’t find an ending to it…

Your touch feels like

a forgotten dream

with fading edges

in my weary memories…

Your face, oh so handsome;

feels like a distant past

that happened eons ago…

In a way it did;

In a way, we did too-

happen eons ago…

The flame of our love

burns bright, Mon Ange.

But it is lit up by my burning heart

and soon,

this heart will crumble

to ashes

to dust

and then the flame may die out too…

I can’t promise you

that I can keep it lit forever;

but I can promise you

that I will try,

and maybe some day, I hope, you will too.

~Love.

But that is what I’m trying to say, Dearest.

That this past year,

everything has changed

with me,

with us,

with you;

and I love you, I really do

but I am unable to continue

being in love with you…

I’m trying to tell you

that you are better off

without this fallen baby angel

with ripped and crumpled wings…

I’m trying to say

that I no longer have it in me

to yearn for you,

to long for you,

and I’m losing my soul trying to love you

come what may…

Please believe me, Dearest.

I do not see the sun setting

as the moon rises;

I do not see the waves rise and fall

in exuberance

to meet the brilliant blue sky

shining in all its glory…

I do not see you leaving your coat with me to come back for it…

I do not see you coming back for another kiss…

Please forgive me, Dearest.

I cannot see ahead now,

my thoughts are fogged with

a deep, infinite grief

that doesn’t seem to end…

I cannot feel my heart now

it doesn’t beat with as much vigor

it doesn’t pump with as much love…

I gave you all I had left,

and I’m still trying;

to give you parts of me

to make a few memories for you

that you may want to come back and touch

should you feel the need to…

But know this, my Masculine.

I still do love you a lot

and I always will,

nothing can change that;

but I don’t have much of me left

and there’s still a few things I need to do

for myself

and I do not want much

in the years to come

I am content with the few

simple pleasures I have now

and my solitude serves me well…

I need to gather my wings around me now

make a cocoon and curl up

into a small ball of love-

love that’s enough just for me;

and sleep a good sleep

and dream a good dream

of a small babygirl playing with her mother

in a field of white roses

in the warm glittering sunshine…

I need to go back to my mother now;

that is all I have energy for

and that is all I await now.

I need my mother now, Dearest…

I need to find her

I need to go to where she is

I know now- it is only there

that I’ll find the absolution,

the love that I seek…

and I don’t wish to go on

on any path

that doesn’t lead to her.

So for now I guess

I’m asking you to let me go

and don’t want me back into your reality…

I have things to do that I promised my mother I would with every last bit of me I have left;

I have to honor her memory by loving myself

like she would have expected me to…

Please let me go,

Please let me go,

Please let me go.

~Love.

Loss.

-This is hard for me. You aren’t here. I don’t see a way out.

-I would have told you all of this in person. But you don’t see me, you don’t talk to me. You don’t give me a chance to communicate. That’s not a good thing you’ve done; not a good thing.

-I write these here so that you may find them if you come looking; but I know you won’t. You never do.

-You’re long gone, but I’m still here. Writing this post feels like packing up the last box in an empty house that you no longer know well; you don’t want to leave but suddenly there isn’t a house left and your box is full of broken glass and it hurts. It’s not a good feeling, I can tell you that.

-Not having you in my life is starting to feel like the new norm; and I’m beginning to try to be okay with it. I should at least try, right?

-Whatever this was, I did not deserve it. I did not.

-I wish I had my mom around to teach me that boys like you aren’t good, but I don’t. I wish I had someone to talk to about all of what you did to me, but I don’t. I guess I have myself though, but I’m not sure how to go about that as yet.

-You need to let me let you go.

-Take care, Love.

Dearest Masculine,

I write to you here because

there is no where else I can say this;

I write these lines here because

you aren’t here with me-

even though you promised you would be…

and I still have things to tell you

and it breaks my heart (more than anything)

that you won’t let me.

So tonight

when the moon is bright,

like it was

on that night

that I gave to you- me

and all my light;

I shall try and find the courage to tell you,

that lately it feels like

I can’t do this anymore…

Lately it feels like

I may not have the strength

to go on from us,

from you

and even trying shall

break me irreparably to the core…

Lately it feels like

I have forever been drowning

in my ocean of your absence…

I’m your baby,

I’m your mermaid,

but you,

my Masculine,

my Love,

you left me in broken scales and torn fins…

you left me bleeding on the shore…

Lately it feels like

my soft balmy October evenings-

where the sun (you)

has left the sky (my world),

may not feel so empty after all;

if the graceful moon

(my inner strength, my resolve, and retribution that comes through my awakening and healing- like forging a diamond in the fire)

has risen at the height of dusk…

pulling my waves toward it

calling out to me-

saying to me that it feels my pain

and tries to calm my turbulent waves

with pale, soft,

glittering, calm moonlight…

peaceful,

and relaxed… (my higher self knows that I will make it through this, and that this is not the end)

undeterred by my choppy razor sharp waves,

unafraid of my deep, pent up,

howling rage-

rage at having my essence (water)

forever burnt and evaporated

by the harshness of the burning sun,

when all I wanted was

to extend a wave or two

and caress the flames-

all I felt was a deep need to give my sun

some calmness,

some cool respite of my soft water love…

some of the exquisite tenderness and

divine love I had for you…

all I wanted was for my sun to feel about himself

the way I felt about him;

and all I wanted was to have my depths

illuminated by your brilliant light (I wanted you to love me),

tender warmth (I wanted you to want me),

and be enveloped in your flaming presence- I guess parts of me are taken hostage forever by you now- just like your burning rays stole my water… so I guess I am happy that this wish at least, has come true.

But Dearest,

before I veer away into endless labyrinths

of my unabsolvable anguish

and irreparable heartbreak;

I must come to the point-

I must tell you this-

I have started to feel like I may be

able to go on

and even though it may be

the toughest thing I have ever done

I think I am slowly gathering

the courage to at least try…

But I will forever and for always

be haunted by your memory,

be broken by the fact that you won’t see me,

you won’t talk to me,

you won’t let me see you,

you won’t let me talk to you,

and you won’t ever tell me why….

(Sone days I can’t remember your voice, or your face, and I break… all over again)

And Dearest,

my inner baby is screaming for you-

I’ve tried- more than I ever thought possible- to console her, but…

she won’t stop…

she won’t stop…

she won’t stop…

what shall I tell her now,

what shall I tell her now,

what shall I tell her now?

-Love. Loss.

-I went out today. I wanted to shop, laugh with a friend, have fun. I wanted to remember what it was like to be me before I met you. I bought scented candles. I remember I gave you a vanilla scented one, on 26th October 2019 at 1am. I hope you’ve used it. It’s my favorite. The one I bought today smells of the ocean- I got one for you too. I may probably never get to give it to you, because you’ve left now. I posted it on my Instagram story and found the most beautiful song ever to accompany it- I want us to listen to it together someday- and I immediately wanted to send it to you. Via message at least.

And then I remember- you don’t care. You don’t care what I do anymore, or how my day goes, or if I feel good or bad or how I eat, how well I sleep- not too well, hun, not too well.

You don’t care that I have nightmares of my dead mother lately and I wake up crying and screaming inside and being unable to breathe- in the middle of the night- and I can’t function for days on end, and it’s increased now, and I call you then when I need you most and you don’t answer.

You didn’t answer when I made my first call to you after my grandma died, because you’re the only one who’s voice I wanted, needed to hear. You didn’t pick up. You didn’t call back.

You don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t understand why. Please just tell me, so I can move on from this personal hell you put me in.

So yes, I remember all this and I think- what’s the point of wanting to tell you things, to update you, to try and stay connected to you?

You’re not here anymore.

You never were.

And so I write this here, but I know you won’t see it.

It’s better that way, right now I don’t feel like it’s okay to open up to you, and specially not in such a personal way.

I cannot show you my soul anymore.

You’re not here.

I still love you, though- tonight- I don’t want to.

I’ll meet you in my heart- at least I have you there…

P.s. the song is Epiphany- lofi edit.

I knew you

as my Mother.

A beautiful face,

soft hugs that felt like sunlight,

(and maybe that’s why I look for sunlight

outside of me - in other people, everywhere I go)

the loveliest laugh,

the longest hair...

But you aren’t here now.

You are long gone;

you are in another place now...

you are happy...

you are in another time,

another eternity....

And I am truly sorry that I shall never

know you, see you, feel you

after this...

I shall never be able to feel your soul

and merge with you in love

like I did in your womb...

our souls were the same then.

Although I knew your physical form

that you inhabited in this life,

I shall never know,

or find,

or recognize

what your soul feels like...

I suppose I should be grateful,

that the universe bestowed upon us

the loveliest gift

of being able to exist

in this same slice of time and reality

as mother and baby-

the most divine of all connections...

even if as short as just 19 years.

It breaks my heart to think of the fact that

I do not know where you are,

where you exist now

or how you are.

I do not know if you remember now

that you were with me,

that I existed,

that I came from you

and that I was with you-

and that for a brief moment in the cosmos

we were together.

It haunts me to think of the fact that

I do not know what has become of you

and that you may have gone on,

gone back

or if you are back to source at last...

It kills me to think of the fact that

I shall, most likely,

never meet you again

now or after

or for as long as our souls are meant to exist.

Your birthday this year has been different for me.

It’s tough now, to continue this way.

I do not wish to go on.

I am now happy enough to only await my destiny

of relieving endings

so that I may start my new beginning

of searching for you

turning the heavens over

as I look for you

and look for you

and look for you...

and I will spend as many eternities as it takes.

And until then,

we are together

in a field of cream white roses

with peach centers,

always blooming and bright;

and it’s always a golden pink sunset

and we’re having a small picnic

with cherries and fresh baked bread

and cheese and oranges...

and I’m your little baby girl

that loves cuddles and being held

and held and held some more

and you tell me I’ve been your good baby

and that everything is better,

we are together now

in a better place

and you won’t leave me ever again...

you tell me we’re safe

and it’s okay,

it’s okay,

it’s okay.

~Love.

Loss.

Your baby.

The best thing about me

is that

I’m a little piece of you.

~Love.

Miss you, mom.

It’s been ages since I’ve looked at your pictures.

I cannot look at them.

Without breaking down,

and then breaking apart.

Knowing, and remembering

that you aren’t here anymore-

makes the bile in my throat rise up

and makes me want to not be here,

it makes me want to crumble in despair-

at never seeing you again;

it makes me want to explode into

a hundred fragments,

each of which are defined only and ever more by

your devastating absence

and your ever present maternal love.

To feel this way is so unbearable,

so terrible a task- and it never ends

it never ends...

it doesn’t get easier- no.

I try to scream it out,

I try to cry it out,

And my lungs fill up with furor,

with the deepest rage at this injustice

and my soul fills with

the most terrible of longings...

forever insatiable,

forever forsaken and

only always abandoned-

my longing,

and me.

The pain today is so great that

I feel my lungs fail and my windpipe clamp down

on my core, my heart...

(here- I mean to say my reality hits me hard and tells me that my mother is dead, and that she’s never coming back. And that makes my entire being just want to scream and scream and scream until the rage tears me apart and rips my heart and soul into infinite pieces, so small and so meaningless and insignificant that they don’t feel anything anymore- not even grief).

If I could, I would call out,

until my voice died out and

until my lungs burned out...

I would call out to you-

where ever you are...

If I could, I would cry and cry and cry

in despair, in desolation...

Only to be met with

the last few wisps of my dreary,

weary, pathetic and

emotionally destitute soul

disintegrate and dissolve into thin air...

(almost happy to let go of inhabiting

this cursed little girl that will know no love)

Only to be met with

my old, tattered, dull red heart muscles

reveling in their symphony for one last time

before they bleed and tear and snap-

being unable to bear an endless onslaught

of grief, hurt, abuse and loss

in the most cruel ways possible...

almost relieved to give up on me,

finally.

Look Mother,

Now, they leave me too.

Now, they leave me too.

Now, they leave me too.

Happy 58th birthday, Mother.

~Forever.

Loss.

- I am numb now.

I ache beyond comprehension, beyond reason.

I do not wish to be here.

I do not wish to be here.

I do not wish to be here.

-Take me away, please. This world is too harsh for me today and everyone I know and love is only cruel to me. Almost all of me now believes that everyone I meet is only put in my life to cause me pain and hurt and then abandon me. And the small part of me that wants to believe otherwise is slowly dying- a little bit more everyday.

-I would rip the damned heavens apart with my blinding rage and inconsolable, unattenuated grief and I would take you back. I would take you back. And I would never, never let you leave me.

-You never taught me what should a little girl do when she’s hurt. I wish you would have.

-Death takes away the word “Mother” forever.

-At times like this, there is nothing left to do but sit in silence and wish to not exist anymore.

-Things and people keep breaking you and hurting you until it doesn’t matter, anymore.

It doesn’t matter, anymore.

It doesn’t matter, anymore.

June.

Dripping grapefruit colored skies - soft caresses of sun rays - temperate embraces of warm winds - honey glazed fingers running through the wind on long drives - lightly floating sundresses - building sand castles next to gently crashing waves.

-not by me, found this lovely piece and wanted to share :)

credit unknown.

JUNE.

I almost cry at the sweetness of June.

Woken early by my own heart

unfurling in loving roots...

and now I find myself firmly planted

on top of the hill.

These flowers, like paintbrushes

dipped red,

as the feeling of a sob,

but only for the magic of breathing.

This month is my only sweetheart.

A list of all the warmest things:

desert peach, grapefruit juice,

light on the windowsill,

the itch of tall grass,

the itch of loving,

the itch of summer up on its tiptoe

peering over the fence-

a little love-struck.

-Not written by me, found this post, cannot find credits. Wanted to share :)

I’ve come to understand

that it is okay

to take as much time as I need

to bloom...

and that even if

it looks like nothing has changed

on the outside,

there is still hope

that on the inside,

I am blooming

and blossoming,

growing my new soft pink wings

in earnest,

in silence,

innocent as a small baby;

I am reclaiming my power

and essence

as a goddess, a woman,

to be forever changed

and forged into

a brilliant, sparkly diamond...

illuminating my inner world

with a soft glittery white light....

the light of newfound love-

for myself, for how far I have come now,

the light of compassion and forgiveness-

for my past self and the choices she made,

the light of childlike innocence at having new things to do, to see and to experience from hereon

for my future self;

And now there’s only me

and my happiness

and my feminity

and my innocence...

and for me, now, these are enough

these are all I need-

to embody my inner feminine

and protect my innocent heart and soul;

I am loved (by me), I am whole.

For now

and for always,

this is enough

-for me.

~Divine Feminine.

~Love.

~Loss.

- I am happy now. Much happier than I’ve been in more than a year. I am happy now. :)

- This is not to say that I do not miss you or I do not love you- I do, I do, I do.

But loving you is breaking me in ways I never thought possible, and I need me now; you won’t feel the loss because you will always have people and kin who love you; but I don’t, and I won’t.

I need me now.

-This is not to say that I wish things would have been different or we could have met at another time; but this is how it is;

and sometimes, I think that you may have done the single best thing ever (in your life) by rejecting my love, care, affection, compassion and friendship.

-You did a good thing; and I understand.

-I also understand that sometimes (all the time for me??) people don’t want you no matter how you may be; and they are allowed to not want you, and you are allowed to move on if it gets too hard...

-It happens, it’s okay.

I’m saying this to three people- you, me and my inner child- she doesn’t want to let go.

-Better things are waiting for me.

And I need to go now.

If you want me, dearest, you know where to find me.