Old Or new, Start

Poem on old endings and new beginnings- life rarely ever gives you a wake up twice- when it does- use it, irrespective of where you are.

Tell him;

Tell him, I packed up and left. Tell him.

Tell him all the maybes and what-ifs and what nots. Tell him.

Tell him I was sure about him unlike the millions before. Tell him I so badly wanted it to be him. Cliche he’d say but he should know for I showed a piece of myself to him, left several more for him to find.

Maybe my time was short but it was tailored and he made me want to change.

To stay. To live. To choose. To smile.

Maybe for a little while but I too started believing. 

Tell him about the cuts and the bruises I wanted to show him. Tell him the heart pieces I wanted him to stitch. Tell him about the places I waited for him to colour. Tell it all to him. Tell him the way I couldn’t. Tell him the way I wouldn’t. Tell him, I said it. 

Tell him about the weakness I noticed in him. Tell him I thought that made him stronger and tell him that made me more crazy. Yell it from rooftops, yell it at his face.

Tell him I’d have loved to stay. Tell him I’ll anyways know what he’d say. Tell him I’m fine, for I always thought he was mine. Dibs or not, tell him It just felt right and he felt divine. Tell him I knew. Tell him. Tell him he’ll be fine.

Cause I’ll always be watching. 

The only way to become immortal is to die early.

I’ll call this, the time to start, an awakening maybe? Wouldn’t you?

When one love ends, another, with thyself ought to begin.