Goodbye

I fell in love with a man that could never be mine,
Just basking in his smile sends a tingle down my spine.
How I wish his smile was for me and just for me alone,
Yearning for an unreachable love I should have known.

The despair that overwhelms me slowly deadens me,
I wish I could return three years in the past, three years.
How different things were back then when I never met him,
The love I could never earn because I was not Kym.

Close the door to the things I do not need anymore,
To flee from this suffering turmoil, my inner war.
Goodbye to this suffering love that I have felt,
Goodbye to them all. Goodbye.

Lenora

While running for the train, I slipped on the steps, hitting face first on the cold slabs.  It felt remarkably familiar.  A stricken feeling overcame me like I felt I needed to hurry and chase the train or it’d be too late forever.  I sat on the steps unable to break from it until Miss Rose, the paramedic from the hospital came to check on me.  She placed her warm hands on mine and told me that everything would be alright.  Small things can make such a difference.  With the cold air kissing my face as I finally got up, it was then I decided that living without memories might be better after all.

That ominous feeling had grew with intensity despite my locked memories only giving me a sad feeling in the beginning. I walked back junction where they found me wounded.  Why haven’t anyone looked for me? I wonder many times if I was an orphan, if I had no lover.  And some days I see a lady standing behind me in my reflection.  The twisted smile that was neither happy nor evil made me wish I knew what happened, who she was.  She must have been my lover.  The way her ebony hair softly fell onto her slight shoulders, how each feature on her face reminded me of something sweet.

I found a name in a book I was reading, Lenora.  The beauty of the name blew me away.  I felt like I could remember the days in the sun, the cold days in bed with my hands on her warm back.   Almost, remember.  When the episode ended, I felt more bitter than I ever remember being.  It felt like in the first time, I had an actual life before now.  I was hopeless at art and no matter how I tried to draw her, I could never get the look of how she looked in my reflections on rainy days.  And in spite of the artist tried to draw her from my description, she never looked as beautiful as I saw her.  Perhaps I was beautifying her more than she was; it was from that thought that I believed without a doubt she was someone very important to me.

It was then I started my obsessive search for a person called Lenora.

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Chapter 1: Prologue

The scent of the tangy air, the rustling of the bamboo leaves in the wind.  They were all engraved into my memory.  They were my most precious memories that I had of my growing up years.

They too were my only few ones.  I wondered how no one ever came for me that day when I finally opened my eyes.  I dreamt of having a mother, a father and perhaps a sibling, but I waited and waited.  Till the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into days.  Before I knew it, I had lived several years without a name, identification or even memories of the past.

I had few memories.  Summer nights where the clouds were pregnant with rain often brought them back.  There was always a woody scent, the bamboo leaves that rustled in the wind, the rough paneled deck beneath my feet and that forlorn feeling in my chest.  It felt like it was a memory that I should not remember.  The doctor called it a Pandora box and I felt it sounded sinister.  I felt that they were not bad memories but simply sad yet I hesitated to find out what it is.

Despite having no memories, no real name, I never faltered.  Each day would be better than the previous I told myself and it felt that way.  I celebrated my birthdays on that I awoke in the hospital.  It seemed right.  They said I looked roughly sixteen and coerced me into taking the proficiency test but found I got them all right.  It was only then they declared that perhaps I just looked young for my age.  I secretly hoped that it was not that I look young but that I was a genius.  Even amnesiac could have their secret hopes and I enjoyed mine.

It seemed that many of my memories involved rain.  Sitting on the window ledge, watching the beads of rain fall onto the clear glass makes me feel wistful.  Hazy memories are pulled up while trying to hold them down often result in them slipping from my fingers.  Sometimes thoughts that have no link to my current situation would float to the surface.  One of the most frequent ones was, ‘If only I had cared for her more.’  On those days, I wonder why sort of life I lead before my accident.  Was I happier now? That was my niggling worry and I wondered why that was my greatest fear.

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Colours

Seeping colours from the world,
The colours that used to blind me,
They blind me no more.

A hollow shell I’ve become,
A faint memory of what I was,
They bind me no more.

Flower in the vase colour me,
Colour the colourless me,
Colours define me no more.

Falling stars surrounding me,
Shining stars that were like me fall,
Stars I am no more,

Dreams that comfort you and lift you,
They fall to pieces around me,
Dreams I have no more.

—-
Its not supposed to rhyme.

Set me free

The silence in the house deafens me,
The scent of salt washes me like a sea.
I wonder how I’ve lived all these years,
In this big house alone with my fears.
Slowly bit by bit, suffocating, eating me away,
I’ve walked on believing I’d be okay.
I’ve never noticed how empty I had been,
Until I turned back lost and worn thin.
Like a shadow of what had been, following me,
Perhaps I never truly wanted to be free.

I wanted to continue on loving you,
Remembering the scent of your shampoo,
Your smile that carried me through my dark days,
how I used to nag at you about your lazy ways,
The warmth of your arms around me at night,
And how being with you made things seem alright.
I wish you’d return to where I am waiting still,
And daybreaks and washes away the chill,
Where I wished everything had been a dream,
Where your eyes twinkle with that gleam.
I used to think that everything would be okay,
And worked hard until my worries felt so faraway.
Things are not as easy as they seemed to be,
Your love you left me no longer sets me soaring free.
This house you left me has turned into my cage.
The book I once wrote no longer has any page.

Set me free, free from this unbearable dream,
Let me live, let me regain my self-esteem.
Give me back the emotions I once had where I once smiled,
And laughed uninhibited and wild.
Set me free to fly away into the blue sky.

—-
A/n: I think the poem’s rhythm is rather off, but I felt if I rephrased it another way, it’d lose what I was trying to say so I didn’t fix it.

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Lost
Wings
Long Time
Success
Missing you
Insanity
Meaning of Insanity
Echoes
Black
Purple Snow
Secrets
Empty
Love
Departed
Beliefs
The End
Flower
Winter Slumber
Words
Hope
Faceless

Lost truths

The thread spun, unraveling its glamour to the world,
Words unspoken, thoughts unsaid, fate unfurled.
We walked on without pausing, without looking back,
Losing the path to return, the time we spent is gone.

The train speeds on, the stops pass by in an endless array,
We watch them speed past, the colours turning to grey.
Unsure, unfamiliar, we miss the stop, unknowingly lost,
A one-way train, unrecoverable stop, we were tricked by fate.

I paused searching for something I didn’t know I wanted,
The time passed and the stop missed, they are now unwanted.
The chance for truth passed and gone without me knowing,
Looking back, how foolish I had been, how lost I was.

The thread spun, unraveling its glamour to the world,
Words unspoken, thoughts unsaid, fate unfurled.
I search for a path where the unwanted truth can be said,
Where time lost returned, where stuff we needed to say, said.

The will to survive

He thirsted for something to quench his endless thirst as he staggered along the road, the hot sand beneath his feet trickling into his worn leather sandals. With the merciless sun beating down on him, he continued his weary walk as he had for the last three days. The tongue in his mouth was thick and heavy like a roll of flaccid meat. There is no destination in mind except the need for water; no thoughts in mind except the need to live for those who have left. Yet he walked on beyond the limit of man, his steps faltering, his steps growing shorter but still he walked on. He could feel the warm ooze between his toes as he did, the gaze of the vultures circling him, watching him. He feared to sleep should he be unable to wake up, he feared to sit in fear he would be unable to stand. Such was the burden of the living. Not once had he thought of giving up, even as the skin on his shoulder cracked and bled, even as the sandals he wore grew holes and holes became bigger holes.

He thought and loved, he kept the ones he had lost in his heart – the will to survive supported by their last smiles. He staggered to one knee, gasping but just barely. A man cannot endure any more than five days without water, but he has survived ten days. Ten days without water, without food, without rest. Closing his eyes, he tried to find that one ounce of strength to stand. The heat of the brutal sand searing through his knee as he knelt there, he searched the burning sands for the town that moved, the mirage that kept he walking for so many days. Would dying here be a defeat to the one he had left behind, he wondered. He heaved his body, trying to stand. The muscles protested, his throat craved, “Stand,” he urged himself. His feet felt no longer connected to him, unresponsive to his fervent prayers. His arms hung limply down his shoulders, they too no longer feel part of him. He fell painfully and lifelessly onto the spiteful scorching sand. The sight of the blue azure sky, a colour indescribable in words, reminded him of his wife’s loving eyes.

The fire, the screaming, the blood, the crimson blood dripping down his arms as he hoisted the blistering metal off him, there was no one left but him. Tears streamed down his face as he searched the wreckage. Please be alive he begged feverishly. Alive but scarcely she smiled at him, her leg was gone, the long gash down her back, the dark red blood oozing out. “Live on,” she whispered.

His chest rose and fell, each breath hurting more than the previous. “I’m sorry my love –“ he rasped with what breath he could find, “I tried –“ His eyes closing, the ghost of a smile lingered on his face and though warmed by the sun and sand, his body grew colder with each passing moment.

—-

Author’s note: This is a new style I’m testing out. I haven’t written much lately, so pardon the refresher course. This story is actually basically, just about the walking and the man who survives on his will. Actually its based on a song a sad song – somewhat sad.

Waiting

I wait here watching the leaves fall,
The footsteps echo in the empty hall.
The windows rattle as the wind blows,
The red leaves look like the petals of a rose.
I wait for you to realize that I’m waiting,
So we can stop this game of baiting.
I hope you won’t take too long to realize,
Or I might not be here waiting when you realize.

A long time has passed since we first met,
There are many things that we forget.
But I still am here waiting for you,
Patiently waiting for you to break through.
The leaves fall as time passes me by,
The seasons pass and soon it’ll be July.
Have you realized that I have been waiting here?
I have already been waiting for a long year.
Will you realize in time before my feelings die,
Or will you be too late, realizing after I say goodbye.
I wait for you to realize that I’m waiting,
So we can stop this game of baiting.
I hope you won’t take too long to realize,
Or I might not be here waiting when you realize.

Remembering

When the day comes, the sun that pours the warmth into my room touches me. It floods my cold body with the warmth that I long for. The dying sun that doesn’t burn my skin reminds me of the sun kissed fruits I used to eat, the sweet ice cream that I used to love. With its dying light, the dying warmth can no longer fill me with its heat and I can only long.

The moon serenades me with her sugary promises of a world that belongs to me alone. At night the flutter of the owl’s wings, the cold white light of the moon falling onto my stark lying body, the rustle of the leaves that sway to the wind’s song become one in my memories. The moon and her brilliant love so bright yet so cold.  I lie staring into her beauty, my doubts chased away.  Apart, I wonder why I had given the warmth away for her distant love. I wonder that every day for before her I am nothing but a man and without her I am nothing.

I saw her with her half closed eyes. Her head was leaning against the decomposing tree, her sliver tresses framing her alabaster face, her pale pink lips slightly ajar was how I first laid eyes on her. It was that pale beauty that I fell in love with. How long it had been since then, a hundred years had passed in a blink of an eye. There is no one left from my time, a foolish man I have been, reaching the outstretched hand into the unknown. The smile that charmed me, that turned my insides into ice and slush. There is no warmth in her body; there is no warmth in her love, there is only the sense of incompleteness left behind. The sound of the fabric as she wraps it around her drowns out everything else and I can only watch. Time is transient to me as her love is.

The curtain flaps loudly in the noisy breeze, the sound of the traffic outside taunts me and I can feel the heat of the sunlight that I cannot touch. The heavy curtains block off all the sunlight except the one trail that burns into the carpet, searing the colour off the carpet in its fiery blaze. I sit by the window watching the things I can never have and used to have. The honeyed crushed ice in a cone on the hot sweltering days, the cool chilled beer on cold days are now but sand in my mouth. There is no taste left for me besides her.

The dawn is breaking, the sound of the waking birds fill my ears as I lie beneath the trees. My body longs to stay and let the sun fill me with its warmth, a choice that tortures me, for there is a tomorrow that will never end without her.

—-
A/N: This story is purposely left opened ended. It is up to you to deduce what the hell I’m talking about, but if you deduce anything beyond a vampire remembering then tell me. I feel its incomplete still, lacking.