Activity

Why not.

One:

The cold night air settled comfortably on her bare shoulders, shining in the moonlight.

She gave a delicate shiver, like the petals of a flower shuddering against the wind, and dew-drop tears fell from her cheeks.

I stood awkwardly, feeling out of place as I often did. I offered her my coat and handkerchief, but she accepted neither.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and hoarse, touched by an intimate knowledge of pain.

“It rains a lot, doesn’t it?” she said. “Sometimes, I just have to feel it on my skin. I have to get wet in order to remember the comfort of being warm and dry.”

I never forgot those words.

Yet I forgot her face almost immediately. No matter how hard I tried, it was always blurry in my mind.

I could only ever remember the silhouette of her small nose and dark hair in the moonlight; the sound of her voice when she was crying; and the way her trembling hands clasped her purse.

The darkness was singing from the skies; shadows veiled her face.

I stepped towards her, but she was gone; melting into the past, taking my aching heart with her.

Perhaps, in hindsight, it was just a lonely empathy I felt.

But there was almost something deeper, stronger. A connection.

To my lifelong chagrin, I couldn’t keep her, though she herself took away most of me.

All I can hope is that she remembers me, too, and that my heart is worth something to her.

I hope she will store it safely in her small purse, along with my handkerchief, and slivers of moonlight; with her golden tears, and with the rain she endured at present for the sake of a vividly beautiful future.

I hope she remembers me forever, because I can’t remember myself in the slightest when I all think of is her.

 

Two:

I said hello to your shadow this morning.

It fell across the floor in front of where you used to stand,

And I stepped through that void and sat down at the table,

And my tears spilled into the milk in my bowl.

Once I tried to watch all of our favorite movies,

But the screen was blurry five minutes into the first film.

If the therapist tells me “it’ll be okay” one more time,

I think I’ll sink into her sticky sofa and suffocate.

I cannot forget the way your voice cracked when you laughed,

Or the way you’d wash any dishes left out when you were stressed.

When I told the doctor about my chest pain, he said nothing’s wrong,

But everything’s wrong, because you’re gone.

Most days I feel like I forgot my keys,

Or I get out of bed at three a.m. to make sure the doors are locked;

I feel like I lost something or something will be stolen,

But all I’ve lost is you, and thus, my motivation.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault;

My therapist says blaming myself will destroy me; maybe she’s right,

Because my eyes are hollow and my hair is turning gray

And smiling is a faded memory, just like sleep.

I used to stare at old photo albums for hours, lost in thought,

But then the laminated pages would suddenly be soggy

And my mother would walk in the door and take that piece of you away.

I stopped leaving my house, because it’s the only place I feel you.

I worry that if I leave, I’ll lose what’s left of you all over again;

Last time when I left I didn’t think that you could leave, too, forever.

Your absence is a presence, pushing down on my heart.

My brother calls me on the phone late each night, because he knows I never sleep;

And he still calls, even though I never answer,

Because you were the person who called me daily at ten,

And we’d talk to till midnight, and I’d fall asleep to the sound of your voice.

I never do anything anymore; I don’t sleep, I rarely eat;

Maybe my mother’s right,

Maybe I’m killing myself.

Maybe that’s fine with me, because then I’d be with you.

I don’t like to admit it, but I don’t know what’s after this life;

Perhaps you don’t remember me, perhaps you never think of me

From wherever you are.

Yet, I can’t stop thinking about you; your ghost haunts me all the time.

I miss you more with every moment, every beat of my aching heart.

You didn’t have to think about that, you don’t have to be the one still here.

And that just brings me to conclude that those who die suffer far less pain

Than those they leave behind.