ACHE

 
Hanami: Shinjuku National Gyoen. Photo by 0752AM

Hanami: Shinjuku National Gyoen. Photo by 0752AM

Bloom / Rust

Even with my eyes closed shut, I see you so clearly.
You are the transition between spring and summer,
so bright that I could feel all your hues of
pinks, oranges, and whites through my eyelids.

Each winter passes through like a storm.
The air was piercing, the nights were quiet.
And the memory of you grew, collected and calm.
How the earth is so lucky to have you now,
and emerge from its salted ground,
and only you, just you, remain to bloom.

I can feel myself disintegrating at your touch,
the dulled colors of I, who bleed dry into rust.
It must be a distant memory for you now.
I'm hanging on and pulling tight to keep
my dreams of you close by and fresh.
Seems it's only thinning that line between you and I,
pointlessly clinging onto our remaining time.

I find myself surveying the skies in my dreams and
hoping that I will catch an early glimpse of your light.
I grow impatient, my grieving heart withers.
The memory of you that fills me with warmth every
spring and summer reminds me that I too, will one day rust over.
As we part, a scent lingers: the certainty of your return.

afterthought

I want you to see me as I am now,
hellish and small, stretched thin
but with the same eyes in the way
you used to look at me
carefully put together,
in my first date dress.

I don’t want to live as an afterthought.

05:45

A host-less radio station screams.
Windows down, billowing and carrying icy winds.
Waking up isn’t the hardest part,
it’s when the day finally breaks and
the only thing that hasn’t changed is yourself.