We will meet again
I swear I felt the knife twist deep in my chest when I saw you.
Twitching and crumbling under my touch, gone but not really.
My vision blurred and tears fell to death on you, but I swear it might as well have been blood, for that's how I felt, ache and pain.
No one would understand, for their narrow hearts, you're just a cat.
but to me, you were my hope, life, and childhood.
With you decayed a part of me, my heart.
"You will confront bigger losses" frowned Dad.
As if I aren't already.
With you died all parts of me that had something to look forward to.
with you died the comfort of coming home.
The worst part is,
you probably didn't even know how much you meant to me.
I would've died for you.
I wish I had let you snooze on my lap a little longer that rainy night.
It's been a year and two months, and still, your name is the one that breaks me, even after all that's happened.
grief has killed the little girl that grew up with you.
you are not even a person, hence grieving over you apparently makes me weak and laughable.
As if people don't grieve over absurd things every day.
If it causes you immense pain and paints your day blue and black, it's not stupid, it's not weak.
No one can measure how you love except you.
I hope you heard my chants of "I love you, I love you" over and over again even if you weren't really there.
I wish I wasn't a coward, deathly afraid of losing my sanity and stood with you as you drifted away.
I'm healing little by little, I don't deny. But I'm at home when I'm grieving over you, terrified of forgetting your voice and our warm memories.
Because of you, I know now the value of time and I'm learning how to love accordingly.
But I'm too scared to lose someone again.
It's crazy how I get to be with you your whole life but you don't get to be in mine till I leave.
I hope you can see me writing about you, tears streaming down my face (might as well be blood).
I dream of meeting you again, white skies, you in my arms, unknowingly picking up my pieces.
