Journal

We met on Christmas Eve
my aunt introduced us.

I didn’t talk to her for a while
I didn’t know how.

Then when I was crumbling
begging for a voice, she let me in.

I tell her everything
till I run out of breath.

The answer is there, always there.
She held my hand while I searched.

No room for pretending
strength was always there.

She didn’t have to speak
her presence was enough.

Her beautiful blue backing
peachy coloured wallpaper

placed over the front
a grey ribbon

securing the secrets and the
unbreakable bond.