SEND

It cannot be forgotten.
Somehow, it leaves you broken.
No matter what category,
it stays as melancholy.

Messages are meant to deliver,
and in all forms cater.
Evoking different feelings,
can or can’t be so healing.

The scars created are severe,
one side of it you didn’t hear.
Send in the truth and not lies,
too late then so goodbye.

I sent the protection I need,
the collapsing trust I hid.
Sending through what mattered,
this ends so battered.

*It’s scary to think of trudging through a fluff of cloud not knowing if on the other side there’s a storm brewing but one must.
*It’s anxiety that is building over and over again as those around you can’t notice you’re in pain.
*It’s time for the realization that in order to paint another refreshing scenery you’ll be needing a new canvas subtly.

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