It's that anniversary again. I thought...earlier I had thought just for brief moment that perhaps you moved on.. that I was alone, thinking of you, feeling the ache in my heart I reserve for you alone and it never leaves me. But then I heard your voice, sound of your song again and so strangely I knew it's not true. I knew you still love me, with such conviction I knew this, and you don't even take the breath to speak to such words.
How can we come to know these things?
Is it, do you think it is strange to love someone to point of desperation 7 years after they've died? Even to write 7 years send pang in my chest, to wound being poked at when I think of you. But oh god, oh god I love you so sickeningly so much.. The memory you after so long seems so fresh in my mind even I remember so faintly when I'm stuck in this aging world. All I have to do is stop and think and I can not swallow for the tongue is tied with lust for you. Even I could see your corpse this day I would weep for it and hold it in my arms, begging for you to be there, even for you to be there in spirit, to see you or experience to you, to hear that you so care for me as I felt you whispered in my ear not so long ago as I prepared write this. I wanna see you there, wanna cradle what remains of you in body and soul, hold this fragile creature that was always so fragile even at the beginning. So fragile, but so strong to even continue in this universe. I want you so much.
I feel dizzy with rush of blood to my brain and through my heart, smell the old scent of you so fresh and yet seems to me like the old halls of a house one has not been in for many years yet remains untouched. Is it preservation or is it life? You know we are only slaves to such abstract thing which is known by "Time". It drags us forward but cannot tear us apart, even we are on either sides of a glass wall. If you scream and I scream we will hear one another, and I always intend to so for you. I rent my voice asunder to let you reminded I am here for you when you need me, and that this day and this piece of me were given to you the very first time I knew you. It is unerasable and never shall fade, and in this way time is no longer my master but my slave, as I force it to acknowledge that it cannot beat me and that I will have you again some day.
I love you still, sweet ghost.
- Your Tai.
 T.Fukuyama · Wed Jul 16, 2008 @ 10:53am · 1 Comments |
