Every time I visit you, I always lay a bouquet of roses next to your grave, the pink ones you’ve always seemed to adore.

And every time I leave, I’ll take one of the roses with me to know when to come back with new ones.

You see, every time that the rose dies I know that you’re wating for me to bring you new ones - just like I did when we were young....

Your eyes have stuck to me in a way that’s unbearable, a pain beyond what’s even repairable.

The thought of you still makes my stomach ache, from the words you spoke that made me question my own stake.

The burden of a memory I drag through years, forever bound, carrying it like chains....

If silence had a scent, it would smell like the morning after rain,

When the world exhales, perfectly content,

life returns, breaking every chain

It would smell like tears that break and flee,

Friendly actions holding the key,

Where kindness flows and set us free...

”If you decide to continue with this operation, there’s a 2% survival rate,” the doctor explained. My eyes shearching for my mother - I knew she would break down hearing that. I just stood there, useless in the moment.

***

Dear Diary,

It was one year ago my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. The other surgeries and treatments they tried have been successful, however this one didn’t seem as ...

As I’m getting ready for bed I take a look in the mirror,

the bathroom light reflecting in my eyes as the dark circles beneath them starts to become clearer,

In my room I steare at my desk, trying to draw away my attention from the workload of paper files that lays in front of my eyes,

In bed all my thoughts resembles and reminds me of my work I’m behind in. They cannot be silenced nor ignored...