TheWinterLilly

Words | Stories | Poetry. Original work ~S.J.

[thewinterlilly]

Letting go was a Thursday evening

A McDonalds car park and the arms of my best friend

Starless skies and bright headlights

It sounded like slamming doors and a far off siren

It tasted like salty tears and bitter regret

Letting go felt like a claw through the chest and a fall with no end in sight

It was months of sleepless nights and evenings on my cold kitchen floor

A hollow chest and unseeing eyes

Letting go was listening to the whispers as you moved on

Watching flowers bloom as I remained in an endless winter

Letting go was grief, resentment, anger and then eventual apathy

It was waking up one morning months later and deciding to choose me

It was staring at your name on my phone, no feeling in my chest and pressing red without a single thought

Letting go was, is and will always be a choice I make everyday

[thewinterlilly]

When goodbyes are difficult it only means you have found something worth missing. And that is a beautiful, heartwrenching thing.

[thewinterlilly]

I may not be okay today, tomorrow or even the day after that. But I will be someday, and that’s more than enough.

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

I hand my heart out in fragments, and then wonder why I bleed from all the jagged edges.

SJ| thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

[thewinterlilly]

When the days get long and grueling, When people have not been kind,  When the world slips hurt and discrimination under your door mat, And living becomes more of a chore. The repetition of an 8 to 5 job, The weariness which has seeped deep into your bones. When you find yourself exhausted and lying in bed, With only the white walls and the tick of a clock to remind you that life goes on, I hope you remember this. The feeling of warm sunshine on your once cold skin. The gentle breeze which tousles through your hair. The crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, The chill of the ocean shore which makes you squeal and retreat. The sound of chirping birds, A child’s laugh. The first buds of spring and the smell of freshly bloomed flowers. The blanket of white on windowpanes as you sit inside, Wrapped up safely next to a warm fire. The sound of rain on a tin roof, The flash of lightning and the growl of thunder. The smell after it has just rained and the dampness which clings to your skin. The endless blue above you becoming painted in various shades of yellow, orange, pink and purple. The millions of stars which look down upon you, The many phases of the moon. I hope that as you lay there, these images and sounds come alive in you. Reminding you why we must live on. Reminding us why this life can still be so beautiful. Because before we made life what it is now, it had always been something more. Something so natural and serene. And no matter how weary you may grow, That which has always been, Will always welcome you home.

thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

My heart aches with the weight of untold pains. My hands tremble from having held something so precious only to have lost it. My eyes water from the film of memories I cannot escape. My breath shudders as all these secrets try to suffocate me.

Every step forward is a contradiction to the state of my being. Every step forward is a fierce denial of my past. Every step forward is me screaming for someone to just finally see me

thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

And when the saxophone begins to play that old familiar tune, I'm taken back to that place. Where it was me and you, and everything was still so new. It takes me back to the corner table at our diner, hands clasped under the table, spilt orange juice and hands sticky from too much maple syrup. It takes me back to when the sun shone on your eyes just right and I swore in that moment, I knew where I wanted to be for the rest of my life.

thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

It's not the past I miss really, more the person I was back then. The person I used to be, before life and its many experiences moulded me into who I am now.

thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

Loneliness will come knocking on your door, a stranger you never once knew. It’s okay to let him in. Have a cup of tea, make some small talk, but do not let him overstay his welcome. For when the sun sets he must surely be on his way. Guide him to the door, bid him farewell, pause and reflect on what he has taught you. Now rest your head in comfort, for tomorrow the sun will surely shine through your dusty window panes.

thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

It is not love that I am afraid of. Rather, it’s the ghosting of your fingertips That will leave permanent trails across my body. The endless symphony of your voice That will resonate in my ears Driving me insane And the scent of your cologne That will linger on my favourite sweater. It scares me knowing you will be the first To mark my uncharted body. With the pen and paint in your hand Poised and ready to make the first stroke. What if it burns? What if they can never be erased? What if you become a permanent part of me, Like my lungs, mind and heart? What will happen to me When your hand claws into the crevices of my soul, Winding around the innermost depths of my heart, Prodding each thought within my mind? What will happen when you take all my firsts away from me? Will I be the same? (No.) Will you leave me? (Yes. ) It terrifies me The power your touch may have, To change me To mold me To destroy me. What if after it's all said and done, My voice no longer enchants you? My arms are no longer your home? My heart becomes a too small a place for you? What if after taking it all, I am left to battle with the ropes you’ve painted Across my once porcelain skin. What If I find myself on my knees Trying to crawl out of your grasps, Tearing your touch from my skin Until only raw flesh remains, Clawing my hair that you used to run your hands through, Clutching at my chest Hoping to tear out my heart That you’ve made yours? I’ll throw out all the pictures, Burn them in flames. Destroy every essence of your memory. Smash to pieces all we ever had, And I will sit curled up Amidst the wreckage of your aftermath. Blood dribbling down my arms, Flesh cut open and burnt, Hair in disarray, Torn clothes and broken glass, What will happen to me then? So as I stand here now I take a careful step back Away from your outstretched arms, That I’m certain will one day break me. Your confused eyes make me pause, But I remember that one day it’s those very eyes, Cold as ice and firm, That will tear me apart from within. So I hug myself a little tighter, Gathering up the strength within me Placing an ice-cold film across my face, The very same I see in yours someday And I walk away.

Once I was afraid | thewinterlilly

[thewinterlilly]

Breathe out. Exhale until you feel the very walls of your lungs almost collapse. Until it feels like you have nothing left in you. Release it all. All the grime, stress, hurt and injustice this world has served you today. Then breathe in. Because no matter how defeated and close to the edge you are, your life is far too precious to give up. Inhale until you are so full of the promises, hopes and possibilities of a new day. A new day that you must promise yourself, you will surely live to see.

thewinterlilly