• p.n.c

...


The art of letting go

Is that

There is no art in letting go

There's just

A void

That can no longer be full

The arms that held you

Are no longer

Those hands

That held yours

Are cold now

The eyes that held your stare

Are unwelcoming

Currently

There's just a corpse

And he's there

But he is not

He is not the person you once

sought shelter in

He is

not your home any longer

Memories

Is what he leaves behind

Those you retain possession of

Since the only way

to not feel bare

Is looking at the photographs

that

he left behind

That you hold dearly,

Until we meet another time

you whisper

Because you see

The art of letting go

Is that there is no art to letting go

Just his presence,

That is no more

-to anyone that's ever lost someone

P.n.c.



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