My love, this is the last thing I will make for you, and I
promise it won’t be as bitter as the rest. We have been separated forever
(hopefully), but these thoughts still pool in the back of my mind.
You were
everything to me, the whole world and the rain in California. You took my hands
and filled them with energy, took my bones and filled them with promises. Part
of my brain still wanders in the wilderness, looking for you. Your soothing
eyes are still where I left them, but they don’t hold me anymore. I walk among
clouds and through rivers and sing of the things that have gone.
Be off,
then. Go out into the world and fill it with compassion until everyone drowns.
You split my palms open and left me to bleed, but my wounds have long since
healed. Find your voice, your real voice, and use it to call the lost back from
the dark. Paint pictures and hold mirrors until the monsters can’t bear to open
their eyes anymore. Love someone else, love many people, and try not to betray
them. There is a space waiting for you.
Go fill it.
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