melancholy passed like a cloud in the sky

i have spent months with the hands of desperation around the base of my neck. asking for breath; a slow death. a slow, tired, sad death.

some of the stars i cried to are

dead - is that forgivable?

i told them all my secrets yet they were gone;

i spoke to flashes of light.

i had not the strength to be seen; the strength to breathe.

aloneness winded long cold fingers around my legs up

and up and into my heart

and i haven’t felt a cold like that in years.

for all the breaking and bleeding hearts within me,

i’ve a new one for the pile -

she is so fragile and so small

and so sad, please take care of her.

and yet, my melancholy

passed like a cloud in the sky.

i lay my head on my arms on my desk

with a mellowness

and softness and gentleness i haven’t felt for decades.

and i twist my necklace around my fingers,

slow quiet breaths. all alone

when i realise my desperate

sadness has been replaced by

peace.

it is retaliatory serenity

that weaves itself around my bones now,

no agony, no pain.

no fear.

i take myself out,

tell her she looks nice and laugh at her jokes

and bought her little gifts;

and i realise, with jasmine

tea warming my hands, that

my melancholy will always pass like a cloud in

the sky;

peace will always be waiting in the quiet smile of rays of sunshine.