There will be a new day, every day.

The days flash by without my notice,

the way you lose track of when to be awake and asleep,

the way you lose track of when to eat and when to shower,

the way you disappear when you lose something you love,

someone you love.

 

And I’m taking the same way home

but suddenly it feels a thousand miles longer

and my legs can’t seem to carry the weight of myself

and this heaviness

in myself, in my eyes, in my heart

makes me wanna lay down and just rest

for maybe a second, or two,

because it’s tiring

to be this sad

and alone.

 

But I know there comes a time in every tragedy,

in every grief

in every one’s life

when you wake up one morning and you don’t feel as heavy.

There will come a day,

when you wake up after actually being able to sleep for once

and you will notice the sun again.

The rain stopped and left the air clean and pure,

and you notice how the winter disappeared

somewhere on the way

and it’s spring again.

You will open the window, let the air into your hidden room,

and it will not be as a hard to breathe anymore,

not as hard to stand up,

not as hard to simply be.

 

There comes a time for healing

no matter how broken you are right now,

No matter how heavy your heart is right now.

There comes a time when you will be able to go outside

and let the sun shine on your face

and let the wind touch your hair

and you will not be tired by just simply be awake.

There comes a time when you will be happy to be alive again

and that day you will appreciate your own being

because now you know the other side.

Now you know the opposite.

Now you know what it’s like to not be sure if you really are,

who you really are,

if you simply are,    anymore.

And that day

will be the beginning of everything.

 

Until then I will watch the tulips bloom and die and be replaced,

because that’s what they give you when you’re sad,

because flowers are nice to look at,

they say,

But I’d rather look at you,

and the way I’m recalling every movement,

every little thing you do,

When you’re deep in thought about something,

When you’re trying to figure out what I just said,

When you’re drunk and lose your guard.

But you’re not here anymore

so the tulips will have to do,

until I will wake up one day,

and notice how the rain stopped,

and then I will go outside and take a long walk by the ocean

and realize that there is still beauty in the world,

even without you.

Beauty,

 even without you.

 

Until then, I will watch the tulips bloom and die and be replaced.

I am still in pain.

 

- from Empty Roads & Broken Bottles; in search for The Great Perhaps by Charlotte Eriksson