Daily Prompt: Tree

via Daily Prompt: Tree

Tree

Up up and away she would climb

Away into the branches of the wise old sycamore sedentary at the end of her street

A street that would go by the name of Lovers Lane

This name was sensible, as a result of the surplus of lovers who would rendezvous under the wise old tree

Though it never made sense to her

Why they would linger at the bottom, sharing kisses and conversing in hushed tones

She had never rendezvoused with any boys underneath the watchful branches of the old sycamore tree at the end of Lovers Lane

Instead she climbed

Climbed away her worries and endeavors

Climbed away her sorrows and her fears

There at the top she threw her hands high in the sky and let the wind carry her hair away from her face

Let the wind carry away her worries, endeavors, her sorrows and fears

And once she was done

She sat

On the last climbable branch

And while she sat, she thought

About all the foolish boys and girls who were missing out on one of life’s simplest pleasures

A pleasure that was learned only at the top of the wise old sycamore sedentary at the end of Lovers Lane

The ability to be alone

But to not feel alone.

 

 

 

 

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Dear You

Dear you,

I’m writing this letter to let you know that I’m saying my final farewell.

Not for you, or us, but for me.

Physically, you’ve been gone for quite sometime.

Mentally, thoughts of you have been overwhelming.

But things have got to change.

Because this is the first day of my life,

That I’m not going to let you to hold me down.

No longer am I going to allow myself to be dismal about things out of my control.

You’re a chapter in my life that’s been closed for awhile,

Now it’s time for me to continue the story.

 

 

 

 

life after death

Life can be hard sometimes. Life can also be easy. But the difficulty of living fluctuates as we live on and on until the day we die. No one knows for sure what happens then. No one knows the difficulty of death. People like to think that they know, and maybe they even do. I sure as hell don’t know and don’t expect to until the time comes. Maybe it’s nothing, but it could be everything.

nostalgia

the sadness comes in waves, rushing into my heart and drowning it

missing you comes in raindrops turning into a hurricane, my tears mimicking the storm

im not sure why you were dropped into my life at such an unfortunate age of only 15 or why you made such an impact on my life, heart, body and mind

but you were and you did

and like all good things, we came to an end

leaving me to wonder if you were just a taste of the love out there waiting for me to find

or if we just met at an unforgiving time

i guess only time will tell

what an unfair fate; to experience such a raw emotion, such a heartbreaking love

maybe in another life ill find you

a broken heart in love could only dream a dream so beautiful and hope that it come true

 

habits and contradictions

you’re addicting but I’ve been sober far too long to fall back into old ways

they say it takes 17 or so days to break a habit and I guess you could say it’s been broken but that fails to explain why I haven’t stopped missing your laugh?

my lonely heart still aches for you and your voice, which is a familiar sound

you feel like home and I can’t shake the feeling that’s where I’m supposed to be

I figure that’s another habit thing

there are so many things I’d like to say to you until I remember why it’d be a waste of breathe

I guess some things are better left unsaid

and some loves, like ours, are better left dead