Weaning

The hardest thing to write today would be the truest. 
Heart is oh so heavy, though it rained. 
14th September, first rain, and a new cat. 
New and old pain, new and old ways, new and old realizations. 

The truest thing to write  today would be that I am shattered.
I need comfort and warmth and thoughtful gestures and loving actions, and the realest and most genuine of intentions, and the most honest of words, and meaningful wordings.

Heart feels like a soft dough that went off, having expanded but now shrinking.

The truest thing to write today would be that I miss you, and the losing myself in you, and the harm too.

This is how damaged I am, I miss you, and I learn how to let you go of my world, a little bit more with every new day. 

You used to be sun and moon and all the seasons, and now I pray for the seasons to wean me off you, and heal me from you.