It wasn’t a song, it wasn’t really a goodbye, it was more like a sigh. I didn’t even raise my eyes when I let the flowers be carried away by the soft wind. It was like forgetting a dream: I remembered a feeling, a sense of melancholy; a timeline that was aborted. And then a stillness. It could have been great, you know. Maybe.
Realisation comes, as the moon drowns ghosts of memories, as I try to remember all the reasons I’m holding on – and I find none. Darling, in the space of an almost-whole-year I remained locked in the falsehood that just breathing was enough. Just believing was enough. & I waited. I waited for those random moments when I forgot I only saw the world through veils. & I do miss the days that never came; I remember them so fondly. But my roses are ashes now, casting shadows upon my thoughts.
I think we were just killing time, you and me, and faith is overrated.
I think I can see clearer now, now that the fog of our breath has cleared and I’m not censoring myself just because the world died before (it will die again) (and yes, darling, we’ll survive that too).
– & now I let you go – – –
(the sea’s been calling me for too long; maybe tomorrow I’ll follow the waves and see where they lead)