There you are again, in the dark. There’s something about the darkness that calls out to you, embraces you slowly and then swallows you entirely. You’re getting used to it, and I’m scared that someday you will.
I scream but you refuse to listen. So, I’m writing to you; I know words hit you hardest when your gaze can follow them, that’s when they cause the loudest echo. Here it is, girl, your reminder to hold on.
I see you. You don’t know me, but I’ve explored every inch of your mind. I hear you cry, in the dark. And in that moment, I wish I could hold you. But I’m in you, I’m just a voice that’s been unnoticed for years. A voice that has just found her medium; can you hear me now? Am I still a ghost?
And I know this won’t last; I know you know how to pick yourself up, and pick up the pieces. Because only you can. You know that. You’ll make it through, because you’re you, and you always do.
You feel deeply. You always have, you’ve always been the one who cares more, the one who puts in more effort and the one who falls apart when someone leaves. Someone always does.
I’ve always seen the love you hold and how easily you give it away as a sign of courage, but every story has the same ending. It’s always you, and me. I watch you shatter, and I watch you fix your own mess. I stay in the dark, you find the nearest source of light to make yourself feel again.
You forget it’s what burned you last time. A moth which never learns. You find it intoxicating, you’re so obsessed with feeling. Something, anything. The warm glow, then the burning sensation before you turn into ashes.
But darling, is it ever worth it? To have your wings burnt off and spirit crushed every single time? Won’t it be better to just fly?
Promise me, this time you’ll keep your heart with you. It’s safest with you. Promise me, you’ll be your own source of light. And someday, we’ll fly.