11 September 2012
Flame-spiked tears prickle my eyes as I watch your lips make the shape "goodbye."
I hold you one last time as I fight not to cry, but whatever I do I know this leaving is for good. Why try... Why try to make peace with loss, when all it does is to turn my soul into an unruly collapse of faith.
A torrential storm, A whistling, wrestling new norm, How can I live with the loss of you? May you turn your back, As my eyes burn into your head, Remembering the feel of your hair, And the way it was messed in bed, What desperation, What pitiful regret, A destined seperation -
By fate, or god, The lord Almighty -
Doth he have no other soul to destroy with heart ache and longing?
Will lightning prickle my skin through the wave of the on coming calm - the numbness that should be a gale of bitter, icy wind.
None but me, alone in this barren land, Shall remember the touch of your hand or the scent of your skin or the tremble of your lip as you hold back a flood...
Only the angels will see my shattered pieces, lost on this starless, windless night.
None will avenge my destruction.
And you - the one who turns. Walking away, never to stay,
Never again to be seen -
But wait, you turn, a glance, A murmur in your eyes of our dying romance, A flash of a breaking smile, My heart flutters weakly, A voice deep inside urges meekly - Perhaps I will survive, for a while.
The One Who Turns • Opuss № I