and she has gone with the night light
and she has gone, the night light
and she has gone, the light
and she has gone, the night
and she, the light
i could never win at
these games we play –
i reach out to silence.
nothing but cold breeze
and vigorous shivers
keep me company
let’s put an end to smouldering embers
that seemingly light themselves
to break through night – I could not sleep
because I look, I check,
and see nothing but the vestiges
of a flame that used to be. no warmth;
no warmth but false hopes of light
that danced but did not heat.
how ironic that all the air you’ll need
is in the water that you breathe
in the blueness that surrounds you
and fills your being
in places you never even knew existed.
size 11 statements for size 11 feet
and they never do fit; expressions of her joy
never were for
or because of me.
I tried filling his shoes
but my toes never quite
reached the end. I could never
walk the way he did with you.
Ever had a dream so good you did not wish you’d wake up?
I did. Twice.
In both instances I dreamed of you. And I felt so happy.
And I did not wish to wake up, because I knew that waking up would mean ending something beautiful, something that I know would be impossible in the reality of wakefulness.
Sometimes I wonder whether these are the reasons why after I woke up everything I saw afterwards suddenly became a shade paler, and music became duller to the ears. Nothing could compare to the vividness of a false memory that I could barely remember. Nothing could beat the vividness and joy of being with your company, even if I could only be with you in fleeting dreams.
it ended like half-closed doorways –
we meant to close it but slivers of light
beckoned, hinting at possibilities
of “me” and “you” becoming “we” again.
as I try to enter and return
I feel the door slam in my face
I wonder. Is
is the day of
Have the days really
gone by without
me even knowing?
All these questions,
unanswered, as you
had to be traveling.
You used to be someone ordinary to me, a forgettable face. Now that you’re somebody to me, now that you mean the whole world to me, I find you just beneath my reach. We go through the motions of the normalcy of daily routine and interaction. Nothing is out of place, but I think it is a little too perfect.
Of course, of course. I cannot be normal anymore, for I know that I like you, and I believe that I am not in the least bit subtle. In fact, I secretly hope that you would know how I feel about you (which is quite likely, since I do not think that you are that dense), so that you would do something about it, and I can then make up my mind. We are not as close as we used to be, and that is most likely my fault. I don’t know. I won’t pretend to know why. I just know it’s mostly me.
I have a feeling that love is ultimately a force of division and not one of unity. As if physical separation was not enough, I had to fall in love with you. I do not feel well when you are near me, for although my heart leaps to my throat in its excitement, my mind reminds me of the impossibility of the situation, and my joy is replaced by depression. I cannot shake the feeling, and it bothers me for hours on end.
If you happen to read this, don’t feel guilty. It’s my problem, and everything’s my fault. I just wish that we can be normal around each other again, or as close to normal as things can still be. I wish that you won’t think less of me, is all.