winter

winter.

snow covers the street in front my so well known window, the street that i've never seen a single car on, and now, there's no way the wheels could handle the icy ground. winter, late evening, the fragments of white crystal glass shine so dreamlike that once again i am doubting whether i'm awake at all. whether i have ever been.

all i remember is how you left.

how you walked away and my world shattered like the white crystal glass outside of my window. and how for a second, my mind formed the absurd question of whether i was just as beautiful. maybe that's what you saw in me.

you drank coffee with me this morning. didn't say much. we were lying on the ground for hours.

then you stood up. looked at me. said, "i have to leave. i'm sorry. goodbye."

and i stayed there on the ground and heard you close the door.

you're sorry, you said. sorry for what?

my mind had an answer. a solution. i can't recall what it was, but it must have worked. i found myself at the window. with red blossoms on my arms. i never knew you were so good at drawing.

i wondered if i should have told you about the times when i put honey on my skin because you told me you loved how soft it felt. i wondered if you should have seen how i smiled for hours after you told me i was beautiful.

because your words meant more than i would ever let you know. you went away but i couldn't let you go.

you said goodbye and you must've have hoped that i'd be fine, you must have thought i'd want my life to be mine. when you said sorry, it must have been an apology, and yet your sorry was the worst you could have ever done to me.

now that you're gone, i wonder what your skin felt like.

i remember one time when it was just as cold, and you were quite drunk, and you said you loved me and asked for a smoke. so i gave you a cigarette and fire, and you sucked the smoke in deeply, and when you let it escape through your lips, i saw flowers in your breath. and you put out your cigarette on my skin and the ash left a scar but it was okay because the pain was real.

and i thought you were immortal.

autumn --

i'm still here. still waiting. you left long ago, but i'll always be here. because some day, i know, you will come back.

i'm not yet alone. there's still those faces around me. and voices. telling me what to do when i forget. you left them to look after me.

now that you've left,

and those red leaves, wet leaves on the ground, and the smell of dirty rain,

i guess we could say we never met.