Lullabies

by Lang Leav

There was a life a girl once led, where you were loved the most of all.

He’s Leaving My nine is your noon; I’m just packing now— your winter, my June. wish I could pack you.

Love waited and waited before deciding he must have the wrong tree and perhaps it was another where they were supposed to meet.

Where earthquakes will reign, between terror and planes— and colds are so easily caught.

A Pilgrimage Always seeking, each moment fleeting; this is where my soul will rest. With you I’ve fulfilled, our destined meeting; my tired hand, against your chest. This is the heart, that keeps mine beating— these are the eyes that mine know best.

Loving You I saw him the other day. His arms around another girl, his eyes when met with mine—were slow in their recognition. I wonder if he remembers what I once told him. I will love you forever. He had smiled at me sadly before giving his reply. But I am so afraid you may one day stop. Now all these years later, I am the one who is afraid. Because I love him, I still do. I haven’t stopped. I don’t think I can.

I don’t think I ever will.

Then there is the boy you can never stop

thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else. You know he is a symbol of your weakness, your Kryptonite. How he rushes in like wildfire and burns through everything you worked so hard to build since he last left you in ashes.

So you do the only thing you know how—you put as many miles as you can between him. As many roadblocks and traffic lights as you can gather. Then you build a bold red stop sign right on your doorstep, knowing all the stop signs in the w...

How do you see me? she asked. You are a bottle floating out at sea, he says. One that contains a very important message. It may never reach its recipient, but as long as there is someone waiting, it will always have purpose. Will you wait for mine?

I will, he promised. I will look for you every time I stand at the edge of the ocean.

You There are people I will never know and their lives will still ensue; those that could have loved me so and I’ll never wonder who. Of all the things to come and go, there is no one else like you. The things I never think about— and the only thing I do.

Entwined There is a line I’m yet to sever — it goes from me to you. There was a time you swore forever, and I am captive to its pull. If you were kind, you’d cut the tether— but I must ask you to be cruel.

Stay The words I heard from you today, are said when there’s nothing left to say. What I would give to make you stay, I would give it all away.

Until I am left only with the moon to refract your light. And in your absence, the stars to guide me—like a cosmic runway—steadily into the dark.

How the wind howls as the sea whispers, I miss you. Come back to me.

Three Questions What was it like to love him? asked Gratitude. It was like being exhumed, I answered. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance. What was it like to be loved in return? asked Joy. It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence. 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.

Acceptance There are things I miss that I shouldn’t, and those I don’t that I should. Sometimes we want what we couldn’t— sometimes we love who we could.

I felt you before I knew you and I still feel you now. And in that brief moment between—wrapped in your arms thinking, how lucky I am, how

lucky I am, how lucky I am— How lucky I was.

Thoughts Dawn turns to day, as stars are dispersed; wherever I lay, I think of you first. The sun has arisen, the sky, a sad blue. I quietly listen— the wind sings of you. The thoughts we each keep, that are closest to heart, we think as we sleep— and you’re always my last.

Dyslexia There were letters I wrote you that I gave up sending, long before I stopped writing. I don’t remember their contents, but I can recall with absolute clarity, your name scrawled across the pages. I could never quite contain you to those messy sheets of blue ink. I could not stop you from overtaking everything else. I wrote your name over and over—on scraps of paper, in books and on the back of my wrists. I carved it like sacred markings into trees and the tops of my thighs. Years went by and the scars have vanished, but the sting has not left me. Sometimes when I read a book, parts will lift from the pages in an anagram of your name. Like a code to remind me it’s

not over. Like dyslexia in reverse.

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

Time You were the one I wanted most to stay. But time could not be kept at bay. The more it goes, the more it’s gone— the more it takes away.

Broken Hearts I know you’ve lost someone and it hurts. You may have lost them suddenly, unexpectedly. Or perhaps you began losing pieces of them until one day, there was nothing left. You may have known them all your life or you may have barely known them at all. Either way, it is irrelevant—you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you. Which is why I am not here to tell you tomorrow will be a new day. That the sun will go on shining. Or there are plenty of fish in the sea. What I will tell you is this; it’s okay to be hurting as much as you are. What you are feeling is not only completely valid but necessary—

because it makes you so much more human. And though I can’t promise it will get better any time soon, I can tell you that it will—eventually. For now, all you can do is take your time. Take all the time you need.

Wounded A bruise is tender but does not last, it leaves me as I always was. But a wound I take much more to heart, for a scar will always leave its mark. And if you should ask which one you are, my answer is—

you are a scar.

For You Here are the things I want for you. I want you to be happy. I want someone else to know the warmth of your smile, to feel the way I did when I was in your presence. I want you to know how happy you once made me and though you really did hurt me, in the end, I was better for it. I don’t know if what we had was love, but if it wasn’t, I hope never to fall in love. Because of you, I know I am too fragile to bear it. 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. Finally, I want you to know how sorry I am for pushing you away when I had only meant to bring you closer. 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.

Always with Me Your love I once surrendered, has never left my mind. My heart is just as tender, as the day I called you mine. I did not take you with me, but you were never left behind.

Love’s Inception I did not know that it was love until I knew. There was never another to compare with you. But since you left, each boy I meet, will always have you to compete.

A Letter It was beautifully worded and painfully read; the things that were written, were those never said. His lies were my comfort, but the truth I was owed— I so wanted to know it, now I wish not to know.

Shipwrecks The wild seas for which she longed, lay far beyond the shore. The shipwreck that her lips had sung, meant she never left at all. It wasn’t ’til the tide had won, that she learned it could not hurt her. It was the furthest she had gone— and she never went much further.

An Artist in Love I drew him in my world; I write him in my lines, I want to be his girl, he was never meant as mine. I drew him in my world; He is always on my mind; I draw his every line. It hurts when he’s unkind. I drew him in my world; I draw him all the time, but I don’t know where to draw the line.

Afterthought Thoughts I think of presently, will come and go with ease— while thoughts of you, from long before, have yet to make their leave. The memory of you and I, still finds me here and now; tomorrow has arrived and gone— yet your voice to me, resounds. For if my present were an echo of, a past I can’t forget— Then these thoughts are just an afterthought— and I am always in its debt.

I know it’s over, I really do. I know it has been for quite some time. It’s over, yet my heart still feels you. You are a memory to me now, but my mind still thinks of you. What we had was finished long ago—yet the words will not stop flowing.

Now with time, I find you on my mind— Perhaps I loved you, after all.

Reasons I wish I knew why he left. What his reasons were. Why he changed his mind. For all these years, I have turned it over in my head—all the possibilities—yet none of them make any sense. And then I think, perhaps it was because he never loved me. But that makes the least sense of all.

The time we had was all— there was not a moment more.

Tell Me Tell me if you ever cared, if a single thought for me was spared. Tell me when you lie in bed, do you think of something I once said. Tell me if you hurt at all, when someone says my name with yours. It may have been so long ago, but I would give the world to know.

Amends I wonder if there will be a morning when you’ll wake up missing me. That some incident in your life would have finally taught you the value of my worth. And you will feel a surge of longing, when you remember how I was good to you. When this day comes I hope you will look for me. I hope you will look with the kind of conviction I’d always hoped for, but never had from you. Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you—who finds me.

I don’t write to you anymore. Nor do I write for you. But I do write—and every word still aches for you.

The Dream I saw a dream long lost to me, in search of another’s waking. It found a shoreline far away as the day— as my heart, was breaking. And I sighed and wept for what could not be— and for all that could have been, For every hope and every prayer long drowned

beneath the sea. I fell to sleep alone that night, to the sound of a distant call. The faintest whisper of good-bye— and the dream was mine, no more.

Wishing Stars I still search for you in crowds, in empty fields and soaring clouds. In city lights and passing cars, on winding roads and wishing stars. I wonder where you could be now, for years I’ve not said your name out loud. And longer since I called you mine— time has passed for you and I.

Yet I have learned to live without, I do not mind— I still love you anyhow.