W6 prompt | Paper Poetry

Parting…

It was always a part of my journey

Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on ~ Eckhart Tolle

The charming fluffy clouds are back in town after a short trip elsewhere. With a glimmer of spring, the sun and the clouds have started to look adorable together. These days, while spreading a shining, captivating vibe, they are not trying to overpower each other.

It’s the same sky we are under, only the color of the sky differs. Somehow in different parts of this universe, we are experiencing the twin shades of blue every day. I love to think like that.

Well, my mundane days have made me hard-hearted enough to stop fantasizing about these pretty things of life. You know, the days with such a playful atmosphere pass just fine. But as night falls, all bitter memories escape their cage. They pop up from a century-long layer of dust and make me numb. They hide themselves in the folds of old books, a song that he liked, a parting scene from a movie that feels like déjà-vu. All those flashbacks keep rushing toward me.

Then again, in a depressed state, I start thinking about everything I have let go of at one point in my life.

It has been like this all the time. I realized things were not the same as before. I felt like that stone that is thrown inside a never-ending dungeon. Lost, helpless, alone. A little something changes inside me every time that happens. Something cracks, like it was here a second ago, and now it’s gone. As time passes, I carve out my hollow existence with dread-filled bricks. That emptiness alone is enough to make one crazy.

I have said goodbye to the close ones throughout my life. People keep disappearing, they become strangers every freaking day. Without a notice. I just wonder if this old soul lives to see another 10 or 20 years, what will my heart look like?

Still, I have to talk to everyone with a smile on my face. Despite everything, I am living. Like nothing happened to me, ever.

With all these emotions piling up, I have gradually learned to express less with spoken expressions. I know, it’s a human’s choice whether to speak out or not — but some folks get too fragile to open up. That is why so many untold stories remain untold for a lifetime.

People keep saying, ‘’Let it go. You are overreacting.’’

But am I?

My heart is not some vague materialistic thing. I have grown up. Yet the heart is still like an infant. It’s painful to ignore the tenderness. It was always hidden. That is why the pain I had to endure was unseen.

But, gradually, that emptiness has become my companion. Now I give myself the warmest butterfly hug when my soul visits the land of nightmares. I whisper to my heart, ‘’I know you are hurting. I can’t possibly see the bleeding. But with this ache you create, I know. It’s so deep, the scars, they are so vigorous. ‘’

Letting go has never been pleasant. I look awful when I cry. I can’t stop myself from going insane at night. However, that is who I am. That is how parting looks like. And ultimately, that pain results in healing.

I believe I will be fine someday. I will let go. Until then, I will cherish the following lines that I had written a long back…

“But at least once, we were happy

At least we smiled at each other.”

I have written the above piece in response to Paper Poetry’s W6 epigraphic prompt by Indubala Kachhawa. 💜

My heartfelt gratitude to Carolyn Hastings, Suntonu Bhadra, and Indubala Kachhawa 😌🌻🌻🌻 Keep inspiring like this, guys. So glad to meet y’all here. :)

Feel free to explore my W4 prompt response below. Thanks for stopping by, you lovely soul. Happy days. :)