She Heals

I was so afraid to relinquish that last piece of invisible thread – that last bit of hope. So I desperately clung to it. Too afraid of what would remain once the hope was lost.

Turns out, I’m still here.
I’m still fighting.
I’m still growing.
I’m still brave.

Hope isn’t gone. It still remains.
It lives within me – for me.

I have a lightness that I haven’t seen in myself in months. I’ve restored the faith in my strength.
In my ability to love. To forgive. To heal.

Needy

The good morning texts,
the late-night messages to greet you when you wake.

Counting down the weeks,
the days, the hours.
Knowing your smile will greet me soon.

Needy lips against my own,
weeks of greed and love and longing behind each kiss.

The warmth of your body
reminding me I’m safe,
reminding me I’m home.

I’m needy.
Always needy for the comfort of you.

One More Night

Do you ever wonder why we had that extra night? Like it was gifted to us. I don’t always believe in higher powers or things happening for a reason, but it’s things like this that make me question it all.

My flight was cancelled, do you remember? The winds were too strong – planes couldn’t take off. They had to put all the travelers up in an airport hotel. An inconvenience to most travelers, sure. But for us? But now? All I can think about is how grateful I am to have had that one extra night indulging in you. As if some higher power knew what greater storm we were about to face, so it stirred up that wind storm and kept me close to you.

One extra night in the same time zone, where it wasn’t London and New York. Just you and me.

One extra night spent laughing with you between every kiss. One extra night with our bodies intertwined between the sheets. One extra night sharing dinner together, smiling and chatting without a care in the world. One extra night sleeping with my arms holding you tightly against me and refusing to let go. One extra night singing along to show tunes and giggling as we stumbled over the wrong words.

One extra night of love.
One extra night of warmth.
One extra night of us.
One extra night of all the things I miss most.

One extra night of all the things I didn’t appreciate enough until long after my flight touched back down.

Escape

Writing is my escape. It’s the thing that jerks me out of my head for a while, distracts me from the noise, helps me channel my frustrations into words — helps me heal.

So why are words not coming easily to me lately, even when life feels so hard?