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The Art of Letting Go - ArlenaZara
They call it an art this
business of moving on
Like painting is watercolor
and a broken heart's a song
I'm standing in a gallery of moments we once made
Every laugh a masterpiece
every promise now decayed
I hold a frame that used to hang above our bed
You know it's heavy with the weight of things we never let ourselves show
And I'm learning how to breathe again a different fragile pace
Wiping the last remnants of your memory from this place
It's the subtle art of letting go
of untangling the thread
of finding space to dream a dream
you're not inside my head
It's like teaching a tired bird with a broken wing to fly
Whispering to a storm-filled soul that it is safe to cry
I'm painting over us with a color I don't know
This painful, silent, terrible art of letting go
The hardest part's the morning
when the habit wants to reach
for a hand that's no longer there
a lesson left to teach
My hands are shaking slightly as I fold your favorite shirt
putting it in a cherry bag acknowledging the hurt
I used to think that strength was holding on with all my might
Now I know that true strength is stepping into light
Choosing to release the rope that's burning both our hands
and building a new shoreline on a different kind of sand
It's the subtle art of letting go
of untangling the thread
of finding space to dream a dream
you're not inside my head
It's like teaching a tired bird with a broken wing to fly
Whispering to a storm-filled soul that it is safe to cry
I'm painting over us with a color I don't know
This painful, silent, terrible art of a lot of letting go
It's not forgetting you, no that's not what this is for
It's just accepting that you don't live here anymore
It's taking down the shrine, the altar of your name
and realizing I can breathe the air outside this flame
It's the first deep breath I've taken since the day you chose to leave
a space where I can start to learn how I can simply live
It's the subtle art of letting go
of untangling the thread
of finding space to dream a dream
you're not inside my head
It's like teaching a tired bird with a broken wing to fly
Whispering to a storm-filled soul that it is safe to cry
I'm painting over us with a color I don't know
This painful, silent, terrible art of letting go
Letting go, it's slow, it's hard, I know
It's the only way to grow
All this art of letting go