Still… Late… Better?

January gave me hope.
February took my strength.
March is taking what’s left of me.
I never really thought about it until now.

The fisrt day will always be my first.
The rest are just ordinary days.
I may be at fault, but I’m not blind.
I may be wrong, but I’m not heartless.

i keep thingking about what tomorrow brings.
Because I don’t dare look at yesterday.
And somehow, I’m stuck here just like today,
And just like ten years ago, still clear in my memory.

I thought time would soften everything,
Just the dates, the names, the same empty corners.
And I wonder if healing is just pretending.
That the pain has learned to change its face now and then.

Maybe I’m stuck, just tired of starting over again,
Of finding pieces of myself I keep loosing along the way.
Maybe tomorrow will stil come gently.
Even if I arrive broken… and late again.

And if hope still exists in the smallest ways,
I don’t know if I deserve it anyway.
I’ve been here before, this quiet kind of ending,
Where nothing hurts loudly, but nothing heals completely.

So if this is my “finally,”
I won’t fight it anymore.
I’ve carried this long enough to know
Some things don’t get better than they were before.

You just learn the hard way
how to stay—
or finally,
how to leave.

– J