I grasped a strand of her hair
and pulled.
It came apart in my hand, like ash
and was drug away with the wind
to skitter through trees
where she had turned and left.
So I rest like stone, here
waiting for the return
of something I was sure I’d need.
Only to realize, twelve months later
that I’m still alive
and she’s still far from me.
And it’s funny, I think
how we convince ourselves of things
that are ever far from true;
like how I spent years believing
that my soul needed you,
only to find myself standing now
stronger than I have ever been;
living a life threaded with hope
and grasping greater things.
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