I rolled my purple pen gently between my fingers.
Thumb to pinky and back to my silly thumb all over again.
And stared, stared too hard at the blank paper before me.
Words are hard to take back.
Be it the ones that cause great wounds to heal ever so slowly;
Or the ones that causes the Heart to swell and the Soul to take flight.
Sitting at the corner playing with blocks that just wouldn't fit.
An accidental sigh escaped her lips.
Giving up would bruise her ego - would go against all she stood for.
But then again, the blocks just wouldn't fit.
Lying down on a bed of damp grass, just after the rain fell.
Bouncing off thoughts against the different shaped clouds that flew by.
Like clouds, like everything, change is inevitable.
But the blue blue sky Darling, still proudly wears its color.
The essence stays true - even when the winds decide it wants to head north today.
Oh Sweets! The storms are never here to stay.
And the winds, whatever their decisions will continue to make trees sway.
We both agree that the waves will change each grain of sand.
And never are they ever the same again.
There will always be ghosts
and wounds.
But the wounded stay wounded because they refuse to heal.
And ghosts?
Mostly imaginations, tricking both Heart and Mind,
only to test our faith.
Now all that's left, is to be reminded each and everyday.
The Heart knows too well what it's missing.
The warmth and that one company that it's yearning.
The purple pen fell to the floor.
I am not ready, and ready at the same time.
And dear you sweet darling for every perplexing thing,
this is me, letting you go.
The only most important conversation, would be with my own self.
I am ready to sleep now :)
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