Do you want to know the worst thing
about beating through a broken heart?
It’s not the torment of bitter sunshine,
stinging winds and rising tides--
It’s not being able to remember,
how it was before. Before loss
came, and stole from you what you loved.
But when you take a look
closer, before the night
your treasure escaped from you
behind a thickly veiled
curtain, flitting just outside
a frozen glass window,
you will see that it is
forever present; slowly
falling like a penny down an empty well.
It’s only when it hits you the most,
do you finally hear the hollow ‘clink!’
Because loss is all around,
whether it be in the slow fading
of stars when morning comes,
friends drifting apart, or
a brother taken without a reason.
Loss is there, impossible to go away.
Loss greedily gets its fix of hurt everyday.
Yet to truly lose, and still
feel like the slipping sand
will still hold your feet,
for just another moment ;
Is when one gains a life worth living.
To lose, and still believe that you’ve won,
Is an art within itself.
