Lullabies

by Lang Leav

There is someone I keep in my heart—I love him and no one else. It is a love that will only die with me. You may ask, death could be some time away—what if from now to then, you love someone new? Well I can tell you, there is only one love. If any person claims to have loved twice in all their life—they have not loved at all.

What was it like to lose him? asked Sorrow. There was a long pause before I responded: It was like hearing every good-bye ever said to me—said all at once.

The greatest heartache comes from loving another soul, they said, beyond reason, beyond doubt, with no hope of salvation.

She learned too late that poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands—hands that will never know the weight of what they seek.

I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.

And if I ever felt like home to you, it was because you were safe with me. I want you to know that most of all.

He once told me about his love for lyrics. How the words spoke to him like poetry. I would often wonder about his playlist and the ghosts who lived there. The faces he saw and the voices he heard. The soundtrack to a thousand tragic endings, real or imagined.

Me AF

The memory of you is fading, a little at a time, and I can feel myself forgetting. I don’t want to forget.