A. Lynn

In the darkness, she listened to the silence. She wallowed in the beautiful nothing it made.

Something inside her opened strong and raw while she played with those two words. I matter.

There was something comforting about believing in things that didn__ exist.

Leaving yourself behind is the worst loss a person can know.

I ached with loss that I__ never allowed myself to feel. As if I was leaving something important behind. And that something was me.

Despite her words about letting go, melancholy washed over her. Because words are easy and often thrown around with trite intentions.

Change is coming, she whispered to the bugs bouncing off her window. You can__ escape it.

The word goodbye stuck to her tongue. She wasn__ ready to say it. Because goodbye weighed more when forever hung off the end. And she wasn__ sure about forever. She wasn__ sure about anything. Except that, at that moment, she wanted to believe he would always be there. Even if it meant many years down the road. She needed to still have something to hold onto.

Carelessness was once something to be owned. They wore it around their necks as they joined the springtime breeze while ducking in and out of the forest believing their fairy tale.

Because nothing was sacred. Not in this world. Not in stones. Not in trees. Not in legacies. Certainly not in love.

Couches and tables and beds don__ make a home. Home is where you feel less alone.

But sometimes, things are better to just hear. Some questions better left unasked. Some words better left unsaid. Because saying them doesn__ make you matter any less.