The sunset comes back,
Like it always does.
A pink sky
Sits outside your window,
And you ask yourself
If its the sun is blushing
At the sight of her lover.

What is this obsession of yours
With romanticizing
Everything?
You say that it helps
Cope with pain,
But does it really?

Your best friend
Sends you a picture
Of her sister jumping on a sofa
And you mourn
For a childhood lost too soon.
You aren’t even fifteen yet,
And death has made a place
In the cemetery of your bedroom.

I’m sorry
For the hurt you have had to see.

You’ve given up pasta
Because pasta
Was the favorite food
Of a friend who passed away
Years ago.

Everything blue
Brings with it an avalanche of emotions
Because blue was the favorite colour
Of the girl who said she liked your poetry.

Daisies
Have bloomed
In the darkest corners of your heart-
The parts you have messily stuck together
With duct tape.

You see, despite the brick walls
And wire-fences
You have put up around yourself,
There will be people
Who will be brave enough
To come near you.

I am you,
You are me,
And trust me when I say
You can be loved.

Trust me when I say
That this open letter
To you and your baggage
Is also an elegy
To all the things you have lost.
And a medal
Around the art
You have crafted from your hurt.

Trust me when I say
Things will get better.
All you need to do is hold on.

Trust me when I say
No matter what,
You are enough.
You will always be enough.