You may find comfort in your things,
but they will not comfort you.
The dictionary is merely an open door.
Sadness recognizes itself, and
in so doing, is diminished.
Your car, in a crowded parking lot,
is a nautilus shell.
Those you miss most may not
have been your own.
Some secrets can only be whispered
at three o’clock in the morning.
Music is a wildfire of generosity,
each song a candle’s flame.
Grief is not a medal to be displayed;
neither is joy.
Hello marks a beginning, but
goodbye is a journey without end.
© 2020 by Hannah Six
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