Little Voice

There is a little voice deep down, next to where I cage my demons. It is so quiet and soft that it sounds like wind through the leaves. I cannot understand the words, but I know what it is saying.

It is hope.

Hope that this is not the end. Hope that there's still time. Hope that I can become thw man she always wanted me to be, and that she will still be around to see it. 

We will come together again, new people in a new love that is stronger because of the broken bits and the work to repair them.

It is an impossible hope, a butterfly hoping to visit the moon before it passes. 

I have other hopes, real hopes, attainable goals. To be a better father, better partner. To know myself and heal myself. To become part of the community and make friends.

These are my focus, but that breeze still blows from the very bottom of my soul. I cannot kill it. I cannot pluck that butterflies wings, because it is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I cannot yet bear to watch it die.