This is just gorgeous and aching. Some might say they are angels. I walk with these ‘memories’ too, soft breaths of the familiar without the life to accompany it. 💕
Your words capture, in part, the ache I try to ignore. It was the title that grabbed me. The poetry kept me. My children no longer speak to me, their final words are a vitriol I’ll never fully understand. Somehow, I always knew and would remind myself, “They were never yours, and never will be.” Still, I never missed a game, event, or day of reading to them. Gold dust in my clenched fist, raging at a cyclone, your words remind me.
this moves like a quiet wind through a memory that was never yours but still aches as if it belonged to you. there’s something ancient in the way this longing unfolds—like your soul brushed against another in a life you’ll never recall. it captures the strange tenderness of missing someone without history, of being tethered to an absence with no name. every line feels like standing in a familiar place you’ve never visited, guided only by emotion. it’s the kind of ache that doesn’t demand answers, only to be felt.
I feel your ache. I felt it often as a child and knew what it was. Then somehow forgot. Only recently the memories and the feelings that go with them are returning. When we reincarnate we take the whispers of who we once were with us, and each and every sentient being that crossed our path in the past. As a child I knew this clearly but time somehow pollutes the mind and makes us forget almost everything but the feeling.
Take it from me, the feelings you have are real. And the souls that you miss are real too.
This is just gorgeous and aching. Some might say they are angels. I walk with these ‘memories’ too, soft breaths of the familiar without the life to accompany it. 💕
Oh, that is such a beautiful thought. I love that. Thank you! ☺️
this made me feel deeply melancholic, love how you are capturing the strange ache of grief without a name
Thank you so much. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Melancholy is the mood that came to me also.
Your words capture, in part, the ache I try to ignore. It was the title that grabbed me. The poetry kept me. My children no longer speak to me, their final words are a vitriol I’ll never fully understand. Somehow, I always knew and would remind myself, “They were never yours, and never will be.” Still, I never missed a game, event, or day of reading to them. Gold dust in my clenched fist, raging at a cyclone, your words remind me.
Oh, I’m so sorry. 😞 🫂
Thank you. It’s a refiners fire, in that I have a greater understanding of what I do have. I have wonderful memories. I have beautiful children.
💗💗💗
Damn. That sucks. Best wishes on reconciliation and recovery, Jarret.
Thank you. Truth is, I have the opportunity to seek out and better understand what I do have. Gratitude is my daily goal.
Excellent attitude!
You made me cry. Beautifully said. And sooooo true.
Thank you very much 🥹 I cried writing it
You write from the most sacred place within vulnerability that most people try to avoid.
Thank you so much 🥹
You are a gifted writer. Poet even, because for example the first three lines are beyond beautiful.
I appreciate that so very much 🫂
I know this missing ache, Maddie. Beautifully written. ❤
Thank you Rea 💕
This, “Like a feeling that arrives before the thought does.”
I feel that in my gut
Me too 😩 thank you for reading
this moves like a quiet wind through a memory that was never yours but still aches as if it belonged to you. there’s something ancient in the way this longing unfolds—like your soul brushed against another in a life you’ll never recall. it captures the strange tenderness of missing someone without history, of being tethered to an absence with no name. every line feels like standing in a familiar place you’ve never visited, guided only by emotion. it’s the kind of ache that doesn’t demand answers, only to be felt.
That’s lovely. Thank you for reading and sharing.
I feel your ache. I felt it often as a child and knew what it was. Then somehow forgot. Only recently the memories and the feelings that go with them are returning. When we reincarnate we take the whispers of who we once were with us, and each and every sentient being that crossed our path in the past. As a child I knew this clearly but time somehow pollutes the mind and makes us forget almost everything but the feeling.
Take it from me, the feelings you have are real. And the souls that you miss are real too.
That’s a beautiful thought. Thank you Jason.
this is so deeply beautiful. thank you for sharing it. i’m in awe. 🩵
Thank you so much 💗
4<3
I didn’t know I needed this until it split something open. What a haunting. A love so ancient it disguised itself as sorrow caught mid-incantation.
Yes, I love that. Thank you.
It’s really sweet and melancholy, Maddie. I imagine you are missed by them too.
Thank you so much. I sure do hope so.