I read little love stories
Some messy and brutal
Some quiet and routine
Each with a soft ending
For me to hide inside
I’ve long changed my understanding
Of what it means
To give love and be loved
There is more than one way
To live a heart-full life
But when I’m bruised like this
Flayed skin, hallowed core
All my reasons look like armor
Protecting that little child
Who still wants what they cannot have
I can make life into little love stories
I can make meaning out of unexplainable things
But for now, I prefer the endings that are written
Where – after that dark night of the soul –
There is always light
With Love,
Natalie