Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Fourth Of July

Free on the Fourth of July,

fireworks are so silent in comparison to my screaming sobs,

as the tether is cut,

never to be connected again,

and I worry that my heart will forget to beat without you there to remind her.

I was free,

but I didn’t feel like it,

because my bed was empty,

my head was full of questions about what I would do,

with nobody to belong to,

so for a while,

I tried to belong to somebody else,

but it fell apart,

because I was too broken to hold it together,

so the summer came and went,

and I spent most of winter whining and pining for a new face that I’d convinced myself I was in love with.

It wasn’t until July approached again,

and I felt fireworks close to my skin,

that I realised I was meant to be free

I can survive the rest of the summer,

and whatever comes after.

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