back to me.
“when we die, our soul doesn’t disappear — it changes into another form. we are energy, after all.”
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i often think how of much truth lies behind this statement. today, i thought of you. i seek for your presence in the wind, i peek between the bushes for ladybugs — you said you’d be reincarnated into them once you’re gone. every time i bite an apple, it tastes synonymously with your lips, the scent bringing me back to days where it were simpler. no agony, no wail. but i’ve always been an anticipatory mourner, and you were simply too good to be true.
eventually the lines of your face begun to fade, your features blurring between what once was alive now non-existent. still at night i keep hugging the teddy bear you said held most of your childhood, i swim in the lake you tried to drown yourself each time the world overwhelmed you with its malices, i run on the track where you never met its finish line — hoping somehow, somewhat, you’d come gracing me with your existence.
a man of his promise is what they call you. and i could only agree so much it pains me, the price of believing is hurting for eternity. you found me crying in the middle of the night, as the humming crickets trying to ease my longing heart. you are also the shining stars — drawing thousands of touching scenarios we never had.
if only you’d listened to me instead of those senseless running mouths around you, maybe things could’ve been different. not once i’ve ever accepted the fact that you’re gone, vanished alongside dreams we promised to keep.
