letting go of you is not as hard as i thought it’d be.

it feels like releasing a kite i’d held on too tight. things like you

deserve to fly, to be set free against the blazing skies.


i’ll always weave poetry with your words, with the tilt of your laugh.

i’d fill rooms and rooms with imaginings of us, with flimsy shadows

of my unspoken words. i’d write letters to you and leave them on my desk,



though i have let you go, i’ll always be chasing you in everyone i meet.

i’ll learn to walk looking up at the skies so i’d never miss you,

if you ever decide to come back.


one Sunday afternoon, i’ll send one of my letters to you.

i’d tell you that letting go is love. letting you go was love, because love is

the stepping-stone to freedom. things that are meant to be always find a way back.


if you find one of letters in your mailbox, dearest friend, it is only to say

goodbye. i could only wait for so long, for the winter of your absence to tide over

with the gentle spring of new hopes and new beginnings. for me to learn how to

walk with my eyes ahead, instead of losing themselves in the misty skies above.


when it rains, always at least think of me.

    we could have danced in that rain together.




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