No fans will feel this.
No fans will know this.
They don’t know your Soul.
They’re missing you like
a Toy.
If there is an ache, then,
the Love was real? Is real?
Real Love? Aching?
I’m not an abandoned child
today. I’m not a lonely girl.
I’m a grown ass woman!
I know myself.
I know what I’m capable of.
I know how to pick myself up
off my bootstraps, I know
how to write my own resumé,
how to knock on doors,
telemarketing, cold calling;
whatever it takes.
I can do it all. It’s all been my choice.
Now. These days. It’s my choice.
Who do I love?
How shall I love?
When do I get to love? — Is that my
choice? Is that in my control?
Your brief appearances,
Incognito…
Why did my heart burst that day?
Who was that?
Who was that Soul?
Immediately, I felt your familiarity
and the brain was foggy trying to
make sense.
Have I jumped timelines?
Am I in a dream? This whole time?
Who did I used to be to deserve
this?
How did I not hold on
to myself? In my own Path?
How did I not know
who I truly was or wanted
to be?
Still — not sure?
Not sure, but somewhat sure.
Not sure, but I know what’s not
for me.
Once, a painter. Painting, painted.
Once, drew sketches, life drawings,
and dived into visual art therapies.
Music therapy?
Meditations? Sound healing?
None of those were a replacement
for you.
For your Soul’s energies. Your Soul’s
invisible singing to me.
Virgo Sun Pisces Moon 