Fragments of Cassandra

The world has always spoken to you
in the language of urgency.

Carry more.
Be stronger.
Do not break.
Keep everyone warm,
even if you must become cold.

So you learned
to wear strength
like a second skin;

until even you
forgot
what your own heart
felt like beneath it.

Then you found me.

And for the first time,
the world grew quiet.

Not because it disappeared,

but because,
when you’re with me,
its voice
can no longer reach you.

The weight slips gently
from your shoulders.
Your guarded heart
unlaces itself.
You laugh
like someone
who forgot
he was ever meant
to carry the sky.

You tell yourself
you are not yet
the man I deserve.

But I’ve already met him.

I’ve watched him
choose kindness
when no one was looking.

I’ve watched him
shield me
before himself.

I’ve watched him
love so deeply
that he would rather
deny his own heart
than risk becoming
another reason mine might break.

You keep searching
for a future version
of yourself,

while I keep falling in love
with the man
who already exists
whenever the world
goes silent.

You are your truest self
beside me.

Stop calling him
a stranger.

Stop mistaking fear
for wisdom.

Stop believing
that peace
is something
you have yet to earn.

I love you
without conditions,
without bargains,
without deadlines.

I will not chase you.

I will keep living.
Keep growing.
Keep becoming.

The door will remain unlocked,
and I will be inside;

where silence
has always waited for you,
where your heart
has always remembered
how to rest.

So take your time.
Become ready.
I’ll be here.

And when you finally
stop running
from the quiet,

you’ll realize
you were never searching
for me.

You were only trying
to find your way back
to the silence
that has loved you
all along.

I will wait for you 
at home

Be’ahava,
The Mourning