losing you never hit as a storm shattering every part of my heart leaving the opportunity to get it all back together, make it better stronger, more resilient than the paper thin it was. It never hit as a wave of tsunami flooding my soul, washing it purifying it,
nor as a fit of blaze setting my veins on fire, my body on fire driven by an uncontrollable rage, that of being left by those you expect it from the least

No, this loss is a calm town,
the one you are born into, the one you wish to leave before the silence kills the life your eyes speak.
This loss is a secluded motel room, a passageway between the place you're leaving behind and the one you're running to,
a foreign place but one that speaks of safety, one that speaks of a new beginning, a wrong one but fresh still
a fresh start though it feels like you missed the beginning line or the starter’s pistol, instead, the pistol is directed at you, it never hits but the aiming makes you quiver
This loss is a blue sky, with few gray clouds darkening your vision,
you needn’t worry but you can only sit on the edge of your chair, always ready to flee when the clouds decide to pour,

your hands holding the weight off your body but your feet firmly planted on the ground keeping the weight from leaving you.

//he would've liked reading this but he is what triggered it//