Saudade (Portuguese) — a pleasure you suffer, a melancholy you enjoy.
My fingers know only the weight of
Tracing your shadow into hidden enclosures
That read like cliffhangers that will never, ever get their endings.
I’m scouring for remnants of a fire that was once there.
Once my greatest strength, my heart is a charred Achilles,
Now a weakness that echoes through the hollows of my bones.
My guilty pleasure lies in the feeling of being eternally rooted in the past.
Feeling the way your heartbeat isn’t in tune with mine anymore,
Breathing in the bittersweet tinge of nostalgia until I can’t any longer.
Today, the wind plays a heartache louder than my own.
The sun is kissing the clouds back into their throats to hear their voice,
And I am figuring out how to be done clinging onto the memory of you.
Because I’m half a human being and the feeling makes me numb,
But I can’t leave this part of me. It’s a painfully needed reminder of what happens
To those who love too freely and feel too much.
I am a collection of contradictions,
A miracle of broken parts working together to create a soul
That is stuck, because moving on seems like taking the easy way out.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.