Letting go of the version of her,
which my heart still remembers, hurts more.
But my pain has learned to survive,
and to live within my heart.
The wounds of her don't need healing,
they can remain as reminders.
When my heart needed comfort,
She gave me a lesson.
And the hardest part is,
waiting quietly and patiently,
knowing that she will never come,
to stay, to meet and to talk
She did not just walk away,
she changed me to become better.
My mind went into protective mode,
questioning why and what hurt me.
My battles are within myself,
and my survival looks calm from outside.
My heart was never a waiting room,
one goes and it waits for another.
She changed the direction of my life,
a story of my heart, waiting and grieving,
for the love I grew and nurtured for her,
died in an accident called hope.
By
**Do not judge my life based on my poems; My Poems and my life are 2 different things.
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