Untitled
“Someone once told me that time heals all,
But they never mentioned how it first shreds you into sand.
They never mentioned that water would only solidify you temporarily.
Those words were meant to be encouraging.
The problem is it only brought me false hope that these scars would vanish,
Not blend in to my already imperfect skin.
But I didn’t know that then so waited as the days turned to weeks,
The weeks turned to months,
And eventually I caught onto the lie I was told on that day.
An epiphany so strong I lost my breath and static filled my head.
The only thought was that lie and how I so easily believed it.
My sand was just starting to allow grass to grow roots.
But a wave flooded me when that light bulb turned on.
I struggled to see how I could be so naïve.
How could I think that one day it would be as though you never left me?
So I waited until the hurricane in my head settled.
I still felt like I was drowning,
But at least I could sleep without the water filling my lungs.
And even though I didn’t know it then,
Roots do grow back.
The sun does shine tomorrow,
The storm does settle and the birds will sing again.
And I came to learn that these things do happen when they’re meant to happen,
With or without you.
When those months turn into one year and then two,
I look back on how that stormy day was the best day of my life.
Because it was not thunder I heard; but your voice.
Now I understand how you show me every single day that happiness is okay.
I feel it in the breeze when a sweat starts to break.
I hear it when a baby laughs.
I taste it in coffee and in pasta.
I smell it in the sweetest of flowers.
I see it in the sunshine you send upon me.
So now I tell people that time heals all and how time healed me,
Because I know how to listen for your laughter in a thunderstorm.
Because I know how to flourish during the rainiest of years.”
(November 2014)
I haven't posted here in nearly five years. Many things have happened. I lost a dear friend unexpectedly in 2021. I feel like she squeezed a full lifetime into her 28 years. She was a beautiful writer and wrote this poem on grief many years ago. and I don't think it was a coincidence that I stumbled upon it on a day I found myself particularly missing her.
Missing you always Ciara.





















