Hi Veronica, I finally found you! My search bar wouldn't work for a long time and I couldn't reach you. I'm so glad I can now. Missed you and your fantastic poems!
I used to think closure was something another person gave you. now I think it's the quiet moment when you stop waiting for an apology and decide your peace doesn't need their permission.
Now that is how you end a poem. Not with bitterness... but with self-worth reclaimed. Loved that final turn.
Defiant. Empowering. Memorable. I'M SUBSCRIBING!
I write at The Reflective State, where one of my ongoing series is Mountain Mysteries—atmospheric tales of mystery, folklore and the unexplained set in the mountains of India.
If curiosity ever brings you my way, I'd genuinely love to know what you think.
What stayed with me is the moment the poem stops measuring what was lost and begins to reclaim what remains. “I am the gift” changes everything that comes before it. The farewell is not only to another person, but to the version of the self that kept accepting less.
Yes you are!
Hi Veronica, I finally found you! My search bar wouldn't work for a long time and I couldn't reach you. I'm so glad I can now. Missed you and your fantastic poems!
So much feeling in these lines especially the ending, “I am the gift.” Yes 🤍
She gave everything.
Received a rift.
Pressed delete.
Then realized
she had been the gift
the whole time.
— AËLA
"i am the gift." damn right you are.
I used to think closure was something another person gave you. now I think it's the quiet moment when you stop waiting for an apology and decide your peace doesn't need their permission.
“I am the gift.”
Now that is how you end a poem. Not with bitterness... but with self-worth reclaimed. Loved that final turn.
Defiant. Empowering. Memorable. I'M SUBSCRIBING!
I write at The Reflective State, where one of my ongoing series is Mountain Mysteries—atmospheric tales of mystery, folklore and the unexplained set in the mountains of India.
If curiosity ever brings you my way, I'd genuinely love to know what you think.
Certainly like this sometimes
Sad that it ended
But it seems for the best
meant for someone worthy,
You are the treasure and the gift
you are.
What stayed with me is the moment the poem stops measuring what was lost and begins to reclaim what remains. “I am the gift” changes everything that comes before it. The farewell is not only to another person, but to the version of the self that kept accepting less.
Does the person you write this to know you’re talking to them?
Perfectly said