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June 19th.
I’d like to believe that
had time been kinder
to you,
to me,
to us
We would have been spending today
laughing about random things
while sharing a nice cup of warm tea,
just back from a shopping spree.
I would have told you
how I haven’t spoken to him
in a hundred and seventy days
and that
this time,
although it’s taken everything out of me
I’m not going back…
and you would be so proud of me…
you would be so proud.
I would have told you
that I love you the most,
again and again.
I would have asked you
to teach me about love
about cruelty
about the intricacies of the heart
and I would stare amazed
when you’d say
“But dearest, they are all the same”.
I would have asked you
what can be done
about all the inherited rage in me,
about all the fury for the injustices you faced,
about all the grief and heartbreak I have that won’t leave me be
about all the anguish and despair I have that debilitates me…
But I cannot decide what’s worse:
To be met with stone cold silence
in an empty room
where no light goes in
and yet the darkness
is still too bright
Until I realize
you’re not here,
and you haven’t been
for a long, long time,
Or for me to be seen
as a stark reflection of you;
with sad teary eyes,
you know how it’s going to be for me
you’ve always known…
I am but a little piece of you…
Don‘t let me go,
Mother
don’t let me go.
Hold me.
I need to be held by you.
I need you.
~Loss.
- happy 61st.
- the days now are just a blur, spent in anguish, wishing to be done for good and come to you.
- in another universe the universe was kinder to us and you didn’t die when I was 19.
- for me, here, now, all the losses have been faced, this being the most brutal, cruel one.
-there is nothing more for me here.
-please come back.
But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore suffers so much more.
I visited the beach last week. At sunset. I loved how the sunlight hit the water, glowing like diamonds.
I remembered the day we met on a hot summer evening four years back, and you were making us tea. I had just read the actual real story of the little mermaid that day and wanted to tell you how at the end of it all she had no heart to kill the prince with the dagger that, if stained with his blood before dawn, would give her back the gift of her life as a mermaid. But if she failed to do this, she would die.
She couldn’t do it. She didn’t do it. She jumps into the water at the crack of dawn and turns into sea-foam.
I remembered this when I was on the beach
There was foam, so much sea foam.
It was so sad.
I was so sad.
And then I remembered this quote by the same author- ‘a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more’.
It feels like that for me now. This loss- losing you- keeps burrowing so deep that it won’t stop, and I don’t know how deep it will go. If I did, if I could quantify it, I would know that there’s a bottom that I’ve reached, a sort of absolution. But that doesn’t happen. It goes on. It keeps going on.
I don’t see an end in sight, for now.
Somehow a part of me that is still in love with the memory of you likes that.
~Loss.
December is for missing you.
Lately I’m at a loss for words.
Nothing I write seems deep enough, meaningful enough.
Nothing I write seems to mete out the angst and desolation I seem to harbor despite any and every effort to heal.
I spend my days in a blurry haze of endless darkness and despair, waiting for the small glimmer of hope to spark my dark skies.
Where I am now, where you have left me is a place I would wish upon no one, not in a million years.
Writing this post reminds me of this Richard Siken quote-
“You swallow my heart and flee, but I want it back now, baby. I want it back.”
~Love. Loss.
My Pretty Sun, Where Have You Gone?
My Pretty Sun,
My Dearest Lover,
where have you gone lately?
I lay in bed , alone
passing each day after another
wondering what has become of you…
I miss your lips on mine …
I miss you so much,
everything aches inside…
The loss I feel is so deep,
I can’t find an ending to it…
Your touch feels like
a forgotten dream
with fading edges
in my weary memories…
Your face, oh so handsome;
feels like a distant past
that happened eons ago…
In a way it did;
In a way, we did too-
happen eons ago…
The flame of our love
burns bright, Mon Ange.
But it is lit up by my burning heart
and soon,
this heart will crumble
to ashes
to dust
and then the flame may die out too…
I can’t promise you
that I can keep it lit forever;
but I can promise you
that I will try,
and maybe some day, I hope, you will too.
~Love.
Where blue waves meet the golden sky for one last time.
But that is what I’m trying to say, Dearest.
That this past year,
everything has changed
with me,
with us,
with you;
and I love you, I really do
but I am unable to continue
being in love with you…
I’m trying to tell you
that you are better off
without this fallen baby angel
with ripped and crumpled wings…
I’m trying to say
that I no longer have it in me
to yearn for you,
to long for you,
and I’m losing my soul trying to love you
come what may…
Please believe me, Dearest.
I do not see the sun setting
as the moon rises;
I do not see the waves rise and fall
in exuberance
to meet the brilliant blue sky
shining in all its glory…
I do not see you leaving your coat with me to come back for it…
I do not see you coming back for another kiss…
Please forgive me, Dearest.
I cannot see ahead now,
my thoughts are fogged with
a deep, infinite grief
that doesn’t seem to end…
I cannot feel my heart now
it doesn’t beat with as much vigor
it doesn’t pump with as much love…
I gave you all I had left,
and I’m still trying;
to give you parts of me
to make a few memories for you
that you may want to come back and touch
should you feel the need to…
But know this, my Masculine.
I still do love you a lot
and I always will,
nothing can change that;
but I don’t have much of me left
and there’s still a few things I need to do
for myself
and I do not want much
in the years to come
I am content with the few
simple pleasures I have now
and my solitude serves me well…
I need to gather my wings around me now
make a cocoon and curl up
into a small ball of love-
love that’s enough just for me;
and sleep a good sleep
and dream a good dream
of a small babygirl playing with her mother
in a field of white roses
in the warm glittering sunshine…
I need to go back to my mother now;
that is all I have energy for
and that is all I await now.
I need my mother now, Dearest…
I need to find her
I need to go to where she is
I know now- it is only there
that I’ll find the absolution,
the love that I seek…
and I don’t wish to go on
on any path
that doesn’t lead to her.
So for now I guess
I’m asking you to let me go
and don’t want me back into your reality…
I have things to do that I promised my mother I would with every last bit of me I have left;
I have to honor her memory by loving myself
like she would have expected me to…
Please let me go,
Please let me go,
Please let me go.
~Love.
Loss.
-This is hard for me. You aren’t here. I don’t see a way out.
-I would have told you all of this in person. But you don’t see me, you don’t talk to me. You don’t give me a chance to communicate. That’s not a good thing you’ve done; not a good thing.
-I write these here so that you may find them if you come looking; but I know you won’t. You never do.
-You’re long gone, but I’m still here. Writing this post feels like packing up the last box in an empty house that you no longer know well; you don’t want to leave but suddenly there isn’t a house left and your box is full of broken glass and it hurts. It’s not a good feeling, I can tell you that.
-Not having you in my life is starting to feel like the new norm; and I’m beginning to try to be okay with it. I should at least try, right?
-Whatever this was, I did not deserve it. I did not.
-I wish I had my mom around to teach me that boys like you aren’t good, but I don’t. I wish I had someone to talk to about all of what you did to me, but I don’t. I guess I have myself though, but I’m not sure how to go about that as yet.
-You need to let me let you go.
-Take care, Love.
What do I tell my inner baby now, Dearest?
Dearest Masculine,
I write to you here because
there is no where else I can say this;
I write these lines here because
you aren’t here with me-
even though you promised you would be…
and I still have things to tell you
and it breaks my heart (more than anything)
that you won’t let me.
So tonight
when the moon is bright,
like it was
on that night
that I gave to you- me
and all my light;
I shall try and find the courage to tell you,
that lately it feels like
I can’t do this anymore…
Lately it feels like
I may not have the strength
to go on from us,
from you
and even trying shall
break me irreparably to the core…
Lately it feels like
I have forever been drowning
in my ocean of your absence…
I’m your baby,
I’m your mermaid,
but you,
my Masculine,
my Love,
you left me in broken scales and torn fins…
you left me bleeding on the shore…
Lately it feels like
my soft balmy October evenings-
where the sun (you)
has left the sky (my world),
may not feel so empty after all;
if the graceful moon
(my inner strength, my resolve, and retribution that comes through my awakening and healing- like forging a diamond in the fire)
has risen at the height of dusk…
pulling my waves toward it
calling out to me-
saying to me that it feels my pain
and tries to calm my turbulent waves
with pale, soft,
glittering, calm moonlight…
peaceful,
and relaxed… (my higher self knows that I will make it through this, and that this is not the end)
undeterred by my choppy razor sharp waves,
unafraid of my deep, pent up,
howling rage-
rage at having my essence (water)
forever burnt and evaporated
by the harshness of the burning sun,
when all I wanted was
to extend a wave or two
and caress the flames-
all I felt was a deep need to give my sun
some calmness,
some cool respite of my soft water love…
some of the exquisite tenderness and
divine love I had for you…
all I wanted was for my sun to feel about himself
the way I felt about him;
and all I wanted was to have my depths
illuminated by your brilliant light (I wanted you to love me),
tender warmth (I wanted you to want me),
and be enveloped in your flaming presence- I guess parts of me are taken hostage forever by you now- just like your burning rays stole my water… so I guess I am happy that this wish at least, has come true.
But Dearest,
before I veer away into endless labyrinths
of my unabsolvable anguish
and irreparable heartbreak;
I must come to the point-
I must tell you this-
I have started to feel like I may be
able to go on
and even though it may be
the toughest thing I have ever done
I think I am slowly gathering
the courage to at least try…
But I will forever and for always
be haunted by your memory,
be broken by the fact that you won’t see me,
you won’t talk to me,
you won’t let me see you,
you won’t let me talk to you,
and you won’t ever tell me why….
(Sone days I can’t remember your voice, or your face, and I break… all over again)
And Dearest,
my inner baby is screaming for you-
I’ve tried- more than I ever thought possible- to console her, but…
she won’t stop…
she won’t stop…
she won’t stop…
what shall I tell her now,
what shall I tell her now,
what shall I tell her now?
-Love. Loss.
-I went out today. I wanted to shop, laugh with a friend, have fun. I wanted to remember what it was like to be me before I met you. I bought scented candles. I remember I gave you a vanilla scented one, on 26th October 2019 at 1am. I hope you’ve used it. It’s my favorite. The one I bought today smells of the ocean- I got one for you too. I may probably never get to give it to you, because you’ve left now. I posted it on my Instagram story and found the most beautiful song ever to accompany it- I want us to listen to it together someday- and I immediately wanted to send it to you. Via message at least.
And then I remember- you don’t care. You don’t care what I do anymore, or how my day goes, or if I feel good or bad or how I eat, how well I sleep- not too well, hun, not too well.
You don’t care that I have nightmares of my dead mother lately and I wake up crying and screaming inside and being unable to breathe- in the middle of the night- and I can’t function for days on end, and it’s increased now, and I call you then when I need you most and you don’t answer.
You didn’t answer when I made my first call to you after my grandma died, because you’re the only one who’s voice I wanted, needed to hear. You didn’t pick up. You didn’t call back.
You don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t understand why. Please just tell me, so I can move on from this personal hell you put me in.
So yes, I remember all this and I think- what’s the point of wanting to tell you things, to update you, to try and stay connected to you?
You’re not here anymore.
You never were.
And so I write this here, but I know you won’t see it.
It’s better that way, right now I don’t feel like it’s okay to open up to you, and specially not in such a personal way.
I cannot show you my soul anymore.
You’re not here.
I still love you, though- tonight- I don’t want to.
I’ll meet you in my heart- at least I have you there…
P.s. the song is Epiphany- lofi edit.
Picnics at sunset in a field of cream-white roses.
I knew you
as my Mother.
A beautiful face,
soft hugs that felt like sunlight,
(and maybe that’s why I look for sunlight
outside of me - in other people, everywhere I go)
the loveliest laugh,
the longest hair...
But you aren’t here now.
You are long gone;
you are in another place now...
you are happy...
you are in another time,
another eternity....
And I am truly sorry that I shall never
know you, see you, feel you
after this...
I shall never be able to feel your soul
and merge with you in love
like I did in your womb...
our souls were the same then.
Although I knew your physical form
that you inhabited in this life,
I shall never know,
or find,
or recognize
what your soul feels like...
I suppose I should be grateful,
that the universe bestowed upon us
the loveliest gift
of being able to exist
in this same slice of time and reality
as mother and baby-
the most divine of all connections...
even if as short as just 19 years.
It breaks my heart to think of the fact that
I do not know where you are,
where you exist now
or how you are.
I do not know if you remember now
that you were with me,
that I existed,
that I came from you
and that I was with you-
and that for a brief moment in the cosmos
we were together.
It haunts me to think of the fact that
I do not know what has become of you
and that you may have gone on,
gone back
or if you are back to source at last...
It kills me to think of the fact that
I shall, most likely,
never meet you again
now or after
or for as long as our souls are meant to exist.
Your birthday this year has been different for me.
It’s tough now, to continue this way.
I do not wish to go on.
I am now happy enough to only await my destiny
of relieving endings
so that I may start my new beginning
of searching for you
turning the heavens over
as I look for you
and look for you
and look for you...
and I will spend as many eternities as it takes.
And until then,
we are together
in a field of cream white roses
with peach centers,
always blooming and bright;
and it’s always a golden pink sunset
and we’re having a small picnic
with cherries and fresh baked bread
and cheese and oranges...
and I’m your little baby girl
that loves cuddles and being held
and held and held some more
and you tell me I’ve been your good baby
and that everything is better,
we are together now
in a better place
and you won’t leave me ever again...
you tell me we’re safe
and it’s okay,
it’s okay,
it’s okay.
~Love.
Loss.
Your baby.
June 19th.
It’s been ages since I’ve looked at your pictures.
I cannot look at them.
Without breaking down,
and then breaking apart.
Knowing, and remembering
that you aren’t here anymore-
makes the bile in my throat rise up
and makes me want to not be here,
it makes me want to crumble in despair-
at never seeing you again;
it makes me want to explode into
a hundred fragments,
each of which are defined only and ever more by
your devastating absence
and your ever present maternal love.
To feel this way is so unbearable,
so terrible a task- and it never ends
it never ends...
it doesn’t get easier- no.
I try to scream it out,
I try to cry it out,
And my lungs fill up with furor,
with the deepest rage at this injustice
and my soul fills with
the most terrible of longings...
forever insatiable,
forever forsaken and
only always abandoned-
my longing,
and me.
The pain today is so great that
I feel my lungs fail and my windpipe clamp down
on my core, my heart...
(here- I mean to say my reality hits me hard and tells me that my mother is dead, and that she’s never coming back. And that makes my entire being just want to scream and scream and scream until the rage tears me apart and rips my heart and soul into infinite pieces, so small and so meaningless and insignificant that they don’t feel anything anymore- not even grief).
If I could, I would call out,
until my voice died out and
until my lungs burned out...
I would call out to you-
where ever you are...
If I could, I would cry and cry and cry
in despair, in desolation...
Only to be met with
the last few wisps of my dreary,
weary, pathetic and
emotionally destitute soul
disintegrate and dissolve into thin air...
(almost happy to let go of inhabiting
this cursed little girl that will know no love)
Only to be met with
my old, tattered, dull red heart muscles
reveling in their symphony for one last time
before they bleed and tear and snap-
being unable to bear an endless onslaught
of grief, hurt, abuse and loss
in the most cruel ways possible...
almost relieved to give up on me,
finally.
Look Mother,
Now, they leave me too.
Now, they leave me too.
Now, they leave me too.
Happy 58th birthday, Mother.
~Forever.
Loss.
- I am numb now.
I ache beyond comprehension, beyond reason.
I do not wish to be here.
I do not wish to be here.
I do not wish to be here.
-Take me away, please. This world is too harsh for me today and everyone I know and love is only cruel to me. Almost all of me now believes that everyone I meet is only put in my life to cause me pain and hurt and then abandon me. And the small part of me that wants to believe otherwise is slowly dying- a little bit more everyday.
-I would rip the damned heavens apart with my blinding rage and inconsolable, unattenuated grief and I would take you back. I would take you back. And I would never, never let you leave me.
-You never taught me what should a little girl do when she’s hurt. I wish you would have.
-Death takes away the word “Mother” forever.
-At times like this, there is nothing left to do but sit in silence and wish to not exist anymore.
-Things and people keep breaking you and hurting you until it doesn’t matter, anymore.
It doesn’t matter, anymore.
It doesn’t matter, anymore.