August 22, 2009

Time froze in a day where a goodbye was never said.

‘what hurt. still hurts. wasn't ending. knew from the beginning there was an ending. I used to joke, saying it had an expiring date. I know you didn’t saw it the same way. so for you it couldn’t have an expiring date for the fact it wasn’t something, and by not being something it couldn’t end. it didn’t matter to me. I understood how it worked for you and accepted knowing it was different for me, a little bit more important. wasted some time denying the importance it had to me but ended up seeing it. still I knew there was an ending. I think I kind of didn’t care as though I could enjoy it while it lasted.’

By Iruvienne, Resting Thoughts (edited for spelling)

 
Time froze in a day where a goodbye was never said,
and then, I walked away.
That was the day I walked from where I left you
in a train never to be seen again
that disappeared beyond the hill,
approached to a bouquet of red roses;
the same roses that were once part of my imagination
of my future, of our future.

That was the last day I’ve seen your brown eyes
looking at me and your grin of someone who
was still learning how.

The day where, for the first time in my life
I felt as though someone had ripped my heart out,
When pain became as real as physical.

Beyond my embellished reality nothing really is.
A loneliness that shapes at every inch it lapidates
the raw I once was.
And yet, when I said goodbye I waved
as if it was just another day and another
‘I’ll see ya tomorrow.’
And then, while I turned and put my headphones on
with my usual unfriendly face
I felt my world crumble again 
and held my tears once more.

The night fell and here, once again 
was The Lone Traveler ready to move on
when, looking at the old Tennessee of green hope,
something unusual happened.

It felt as if the wind was blowing on my face
and rain was pouring inside my empty shell.
A tear of hate and loss and pain.
And then the releasing of a frustration
built up in a week that seemed to last forever.

That was the night where I hold to my pillow
and gasped for air, for the pain was too much to bare.
where I moaned for the pain of the piano and violin
that played my life.
Because it was then that I remembered that
my end will be as empty as my existence has been.
The name no one can quite remember,
a face that blurs in the next second,
a shadow that passes you in the blink of an eye
never to be seen or heard or remembered.
An anonymous existence in you.

A person you’ll soon forget
because the wonders of today and futures’
will eclipse the rebound of me:
a unique soul that was so special in the moments
it was and yet so insignificant when it wasn’t.
A presence that is good while there
but not missed or remembered.

I know I can write freely for neither you or anyone else will read
these words, forever to be lost in this page
and never to be found or read.

It is here where I stop searching for you and wait
for your soul to find mine. And I will until my last sane second.

With you forever.

(A reflection not just on you but on everyone that I do and will meet. You’d recognize yourself here, if you were to ever read these words and you’d know I can feel.)

Maxwell Black
Aug 21, 2008
10.58pm

1 comment:

  1. Que saudades de te ler... de ter o temp para sentir as palavras e dizer alguma coisa.
    Obrigada por este bocadadinho, foi realmente bonito e cheio de significado, como tu próprio dizes. É isso que mais gosto quando cá venho.
    Peço desculpa pelo silêncio, mas o trabalho e as trapalhadas da vida têm me mantido calada, mas nunca esquecida.

    And no... you shouldn't presume someone's in love... someone's just grateful.

    Beijinho,

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