Crave.

Midnight air. Wishful thinking. Tears shed. Empty conversations. Shooting stars. Vain prayers. Chaotic mind. Craving heart.

There was nothing she could do, but let go. But sometimes the things that do the most harm, are the things the heart wants. Deeper the scars, harder the goodbyes.

The photograph fluttered in her hand. And for the zillionth time she looked down at it hoping things could freeze. This 8 x 10 cluttered pixels captured a story that only she knew. A story she buried deep down her damaged self. A story she penned for herself but fate snatched away from her reach. She silently watched it become someone else's tale, for she was afraid..afraid that the smiles in the photograph would fade..that if the story was let out, it would steal the laughter. She let herself blur and kept them in focus ; pushed herself out of the frame and let her brighten up his life.

She let the photograph burn. She let the smiles turn to ashes. As the flame grew stronger, she did too. There was nothing she could do, but let go. 

- 

xSkyy.