Going the Distance
My visits with you are like reading a chapter
Of my favourite book over and over.
Each time, I discover something new
I did not realize the last time around.
I fall in love again and again.
But some days are harder than others,
And I start to lose hope.
I could tell you questioned whether or not
I loved you enough.
But you see, it is bigger than that.
Because the last time I believed in love,
I ended up believing in nothing.
I have been in your shoes before.
I know how rotten that feeling is.
That all the love in the world you could possibly give,
To someone else is not enough.
What is more heart-wrenching than loving someone,
Who does not love you back?
And I hate myself for making you feel this way.
How can they say I burned the bridge,
When they lit the flame?
With a dirty knife and a broken hand,
They carved the match out of their giving tree.
They cut me out like paper snowflakes,
Tossed on icy February windows to freeze,
They left me to bare the cold alone.
Like a tall tree, thick, old and wise, I stood.
Licking the harsh wind with my leaves.
I held on to them tightly,
Careful to not let them blow by,
I would not lose pieces of myself.
All other trees had been chopped, and removed from my life.
I realized it was better this way.
To bare the wind alone,
Makes us strong.
The saddest kind of love,
Is the kind that tries really hard to work out,
I really wanted ours to survive the flood.
It wasn’t because the love wasn't there.
It was for me.
In many ways I felt love for you.
More than I had felt any other feeling in my life.
My favourite thing about us was our laughter,
And the way you made my heart flutter.
Like a butterfly taking flight for the first time:
Scared, but excited.
Life just got in the way.
We lost ourselves, then each other,
And then it was too late.
The baristas are constantly darting,
From one side of the counter to the other.
The counter is covered in spices and cartons of milk.
There are two girls who have been assigned making drinks.
One of them has two brown braids in her hair.
She looks like a female boxer,
In the zone and ready for a match.
The other, has a single blonde braid,
With a navy scrunchy tying it together.
While restocking, the milk bag nearly slips
Through her fingers onto the floor.
She is clearly overwhelmed and panicked.
Yet, both girls manage to serve each drink
With a smile and a positive farewell to the customer.
The lounge around the drink bar
Is packed with students chatting
And working silently on their laptops.
The chairs they sit in were once a bright orange,
But now they are more like a dull,
Dirty orange made of leather
From a cow who has seen better days.
Holly Williams is a small town girl jumping into the big city life. Reading and writing have always been activities she has been passionate about, along with photography and exploring. She likes to think if a book doesn't light a spark in your soul then it wasn't a 10/10. Her happy place is sitting on the porch on a crisp fall day, spending time with people she loves, with a hot cup of tea in her hands.