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favourite things//a letter to myself (or my heart, or who i used to be.)

it's your favourite kind of weather tonight.
stormy, windy,
not too cold
but cold enough to want to curl up
on your favourite chair
and soak it all in.

i brewed your favourite cup of chai tonight.
ginger, cinnamon and tea leaves
steeped in water and 
boiled with milk
for as long as it takes to sing two 
of your favourite songs.

i made your favourite bowl of maggi tonight.
soupy, but not too soupy.
it's warm and comforting.
i leaned forward and let the 
steam condense on my face
like you used to do.

i leaned my head against the windowsill and 
drew smiley faces on the window
with my breath.
i listened to your favourite album on repeat
using every lyric, every melody,
to try and call you home.

it's been a while since i've heard you sing
or seen you dance like you did before.
i wait at the door and i worry 
for you, out there
alone, punishing yourself
for a crime you did not commit.

so i make all your favourite things
and i sing all your favourite songs
while the world outside storms
the way you like it to
and i call your name. 
please, come home.

you can say that i'm just trying to 
invoke your presence, summon you
like a demon. but you are not
a demon. you are not
a lost cause.
you are not alone.

i know you're scared of hurting
and being hurt again
i know you fear that what you've lost
is lost for good.
but your favourite things are still here
and there is still peace to be found.

i'd love to see you smile again
or laugh and roll your eyes
or sigh and melt into
your love's arms
i'd love to see you be at peace
with yourself.

so please,
come back home.
your favourite things are 
waiting here for you
with a 'welcome home' hug.
and this time, i hope you stay.

Comments

  1. This was soo sothing broo. You are a brilliant writer ��❤��

    ReplyDelete

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