I remember who you used to be; I wonder where you went.
Who you are now is far from who you used to be.
I heard it but I couldn’t see who was playing it; now that it’s playing in front of me, why can’t I hear it? Why can’t I see?
And there’s this idea embedded in me.
To be forgotten is considerably more appropriate than to become a memory.
At least in the prior you’re not labeled with scars and burns and flaws and wounds of how you ought to be. How you ought to remain.
How you would remain, continuously viewing yourself as such from those daunting pupils.
Daddy
Pappa.
The honour bearing in the simplicity of five letters.
It has been 748 days since I used that term.
I wish you were here.
I wish I could hear your voice.
I wish I could see your love.
I wish you could call my name.
I wish I could see your faith in me whenever you glanced over.
I wish I could get one more glimpse of you.
I wish you could wipe the trail of tears on my cheeks.
I need you near.
People tell me I ought to be strong.
That I need to be strong.
But I can’t.
There is no strength in me.
I can’t find it.
You were always my backbone.
My brute force.
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As days tremble by, reality creeps in abundantly.
I will never witness the pride in your eyes as I receive my diploma.
You will not be the face in the crowd I search for as photographs are snapped on stage.
You will never grant your approval for my lover.
You will never give my hand over.
You will never kiss my cheek and whisper you love me.
I am deprived forever.
Happy
Let’s not end this.
Let’s make a patent and be happy.
No, not happy. The word seldom holds the value it’s meant to have.
Let’s be joyful, ecstatic, and merry.
Let’s be lively. Yes, lively. It paints a better canvas than the mere term happy.
Let’s never lose our pint of humour.
Let’s be together.
Let’s, only for a day.
Let’s continue that one day for eternity.
And then it happened. I concluded the propriety of your absence. So simple, yet just as cruel. My state didn’t change. I beard the same shallow pit rooted in my stomach, the vines piercing through my heart. My tears ran off track.
The cassette played on replay. There was no stop button, only a pause. I insisted on forward, in hopes of a moment without your presence lodged in the midst of my brain. I moved, you stayed. I wept, you stayed. I tried, you stayed. I smiled, you stayed.
Such a fool I was, presuming in the course of time I would be rid of you occupying a bulk of my thoughts.
Maybe that’s what love is, I thought; it’s being pissed off.
