Mourning dove

My wedding dress was black — of course, it was black. My mother said I would look like I am going to my funeral, then my wedding. I didn't listen to her. I never listen to her.

I wanted a witchy wedding. At night, when the moon was at its peak, to bask in its light as if it were my spotlight. Don't you think the moon is beautiful? I was blessed by Nyx that night.

The grass was taken by the wind, swaying just a light breeze between my dress. I was bare foot. I felt the grass underneath my feet. It was soft and blessed by mother nature, she took good care of it.

There was candles on tables dotted around the area. It looked beautiful like something at out of a fairytable as if I was a disney princess. Though I hate being called princess.

You stood at the bottom of the path. I can see your smile from here. That smile I saw every morning when you turn over to me when waking up. Your smile beams, feeling so sweet like I ate a spoonful of honey.

I am holding red spider lilies in hands, clutching so tightly in my palms. I can see friends and family as I walk down the aisle. My mother and siblings smiling at me as if they wanted this moment.

You are standing there, dressed in a white suit with a black tie. White looks good on you, I thought. You look pretty in the moonlight, it makes your hair sparkle, just like when I see you.

I have butterflies,

It feels like I ate a dozen of them yet —

they come out of their cocoons,

and spread their wings in victory.

We exchange vows, a prayer for longevity and good health. I wanted to kiss you. The first time I saw you, i want too then it happened. The moon and the sun eclipsed and we were in complete darkness but we had a candle.

It was a beautiful wedding, a dream for me. A perfect dream, the nightmares banished for now.

The wind caught my wedding dress, a gust tugging it. I left the window open as I swayed around. The moon was out again. A full moon like that very night.

I imagined the hall we was in. People slow dancing with their partners in tandem. We waltzed, around in a perfect circle, no feet being stood on between us.

I also walking down the aisle, you was the only one who stood out. Everyone else was a blur as if we only you and me existed on this earth.

Yet — things are becoming blurry. A hand I can't reach no longer. A hand that was pressed on my back when I was cooking pancakes. A hand that held mine during scary movies.

I am all alone with no place to go. I want to live but without you I can't. Why do we all die some day? Why do we all lie in a casket for them to never come? Why do we put down flowers as if they will smell them?

Why are you in the ground and not here — with me? The day I let go of you, will be when I have dementia and then I will not be able to you.

Note I feel inspired today so I wanted to write something simple and sad

Image doesn't belong to me