Small battles

Do you remember how it felt to be alone?

No. Truly alone.

I’m not sure you do.

You spend your days writing about it

Feeling it.

Or

feeling like you feel it.

And I don’t mean

being alone

in words

that you tell other people.

Describing yourself as single.

And then

pining after

Or

fucking

someone.

Forever

making sure

your heart

fits neatly

into someone else’s pocket.

I mean

being

Alone.

Have you ever tried it,

just for a second?

Saving your love

For yourself.

Not dowsing yourself in sadness.

Longing.

Or

Feeling incomplete

because of something lacking in a connection.

Because of

missing pieces

that belong to someone else.

Or something you’re hoping they’ll give you.

Silently.

And then when it doesn’t come

focusing only on what you’re not receiving

Not the qualities in you

that equate to the reasons they should.

Do you remember what it felt like

to have your heart shatter into a million tiny shards?

What it felt like

to come home

and fall apart.

Not knowing where you’d find the pieces

Or

if you had the strength to look.

Do you remember the hopelessness

you felt

Asking

who would crawl around in the dirt

and help you collect all the bits

that make you.

And you know, you can find your bravery

in the darkest places.

Back there.

When

home

was a hollow shell

An empty space

filled with memories,

sadness, nothing.

Filled with ghosts.

Feeling so lost

you carefully unfurled yourself

from the people you loved

And ran.

Surrounding yourself

with unfamiliar faces.

And then

do you remember all the small battles

you fought

to find yourself again?

And now

can you say

I will trust you

to find safety

in your own arms.

Remember

that you are enough

in the space in between

when your head is full of questions

Full of maybes

and could have beens.

Can you save your love?

Can you tell yourself

I know you.

I know you.

I know

you can.

I know

you can

fight

those

small battles

all on your own.