Sad Holiday


You were my sun.

I would tell you my story,

But you helped write it.

I would tell you about the hole in my heart,

But you put it there.

And you're not here anymore to fix me.



I've come to understand

The only part you should know

Is everything that went missing.

Everything that went missing in the days you were gone.

The missing things you took with you.

Things I am still trying to find.

From my eyes, you and how you exist

are illustrated simply in three words.

Three words and two sentences.

With power to take root and dig deep into my heart.

I love you.


I miss you.

I miss you the imperfect way I have to with the ruined heart I’m left with. 

I miss you in a way that makes me realize that words are of no use to me.



It’s a mess in here, me and my feelings and my thoughts. 

My mind, at its best, is intricate and tangled.

You saw it as beautiful.

And it's creative, coming up with games and letters and sounds.

Yet, being the victim of its abstract patterns, 

I often disagree. 

I’m going to start over. 

The only thing I’ll take with me is my memories and my messy, messy mind. 

Maybe this time around

I can understand it.

I can organize.

10 days left in the year.

I plan on walking through all of them. 

Straight into the New Year.


I created a world.

It’s my world. 

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,”

the inadmissible character flow of the selfish, self-centered person.

A metaphor that is entirely wrong. 

Billions of people share the earth, 

Each one with their own world. 

One that they created for themselves. 

Limited to using their knowledge and their interactions as building material,

They are the main character.

They are the center.

Everyone and everything surrounding them were only assigned a role after interacting with them.

Everything in it revolves around them, or whatever object of gravity pulled it into orbit.

What gave meaning and purpose.

The world, at least from their perspective, does revolve around them.   

It doesn’t mean they are selfish. 

It is just how it works. 

But when I built you into my world,

I made you the sun. 


I think words have the capacity to fix anything.

If the letters are in the right order, and the words are sewn in neat stitches,  

Something amazing can be made. 

It's my favorite thing about life. 

It was yours too. 

And when you said your last sentence to me

I finally realized what both of us were losing. 

You would never make beautiful, amazing sentences again. 

I would never again reach through my ear to hold onto your words,

I would never see your slanted writing on sticky notes pressed to the mirror. 

Words can’t fix everything when they are taken away. 



I have to work harder at remembering who I am without you.

The piece of my heart you took with you 

That was the piece in the middle. 

That piece stopped everything from collapsing. 

In the world I made,

I didn’t prepare for what would happen if I lost you. 

I think if I was in a book, the author must have taken inspiration from globe 

to spin my world the way they did.

7 days left in the year.

7 days to make my world stand still again.




Is the fact of being without companions.

And it seems in contradiction, to be my most dependable companion.

You and your company filled up my heart.

A feeling of happiness and love that started in the middle and spread outward.

You were what I needed to make the lonely days sing

You looked in my eyes and never forgot me.

You showed me I'm worth remembering

You were important to me and I was important to you.

You became my sun.   

I miss you with all of the heart I’m left with. 

I would give the rest of it to you, 

But I need it still.


Next year

They’ll see me

My neat and organized thoughts 

My structured sentences.

My composed smile when they ask about you and how I’m doing. 

But they won’t see

The ugly, blinding tears

And the days I didn’t care if I was dull and limp.

They won’t see how I dragged myself through days of thinking and remembering and writing 

Just so I could start over 

Start the new year prepared to live again.

How I prepared for the promises I’ll make.

The promises I’ll keep.

The times I'll use words to speak.

And the days I’ll be okay.



To a small, anxious heart

You were such a blessing.

You made it beat faster 

And grow larger.

Then you left 

And the heart stayed the same size 

But it beats slower

And it's trying hard to keep up with all the work a large heart requires

It’s working hard and beating slow

But it’s still going

And it will keep going until it gets stronger.

So it doesn’t need to beat faster

It just needs to be strong. 


You knew so much about me

You knew so many impossible things.

I didn’t teach you

You just seemed to know. 

But you learned everything about me 

From me.

From learning my name 

From watching me

From listening to me

From everything. 

You chose to know me

Other people can to. 

Maybe I don’t have to teach them. 

Maybe I just need to let them learn who I am.



A writers job 

Is to make sentences.

Sentences that come from the words in their mind. 

To create them and stack them like blocks.

My job

Is to let myself out into the world

And collect everything I find 

And use it 

To rebuild my own.

To build rooms for new people and windows for those I lose.

I counted the stars tonight

And saw you among them.

Tomorrow is the last day of the year.



You were my sun.

Now you can be my stars.

December 27, 2021 01:02

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Rajiv Iyer
00:06 Jan 06, 2022

Beautiful sad poem. Lot of melancholic bittersweet feelings to it. But with an ending that indicates at some kind of acceptance & closure. I hope its fictional or metaphorical, because there's a lot of undercurrents of tragedy there. If it's based on something deeply personal, then I feel the pain!


R. K.
19:16 Jan 11, 2022

Thank you!


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