Letting Go
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Becoming means naming who she is now without softening it, and deciding which old versions no longer get to come along.
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The last time she saw them becomes a scene memory keeps replaying, searching ordinary details for the goodbye it did not recognize yet.
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Love did not end in one dramatic moment; it wore down slowly until the sentence finally learned where to stop.
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The hardest part of loving someone is sometimes realizing the love was real even when staying became impossible.
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Before sleep, set down the worries, conversations, and impossible expectations that were never meant to follow you into the dark.
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Some songs don’t stop belonging to you just because someone changes the dedication. This poem isn’t about ownership—it’s about memory, and how love can echo long after the music changes.
Between Bruises & Blooms 