I’m done mourning.

The ceremonial black

that signals the end of a lost cause.

How long before you exit my brain and give me back the completed soul I was before I met you?

I’m done waiting

to live my life as a phoenix does when it rises from the ashes after


all insides and lost hopes.

I’m done hoping

that someone will be brave enough to pick up what you left

broken and unwanted.

I slowly take off this cloak of hurt and

wrap it carefully and reverently.

One day

maybe soon

I’ll use it again.



into a new cloak




and I am


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