it is morning and i am awake.

everyday there will be a time when i drift off into an abyss where distance is abstract and all that others could make out is the gaze of emptiness in my eyes.

this is the moment of all moments where i wonder in endless wonderment of how, in good time and with the simplest of words can i tell you very dearly, and i've always wanted to be able to tell you, in all honesty, that i love you.

because i do. and this is what you do when you really do. though nothing seems to happen even when i truly do. the sun still rises while my darkness looms, i can't see where or what i am gazing at, and every tomorrow still dreams of where today wouldn't or couldn't go.

this is the moment when i wish your laughters that swirls me round the world come from you in real time, still carrying the warmth of your breath that makes my ears tingle with fuzzy delight; not the coughing river of endless memories.

every day.
i want to pick up my phone and tell you.

but your phone seldom works these days.

it is morning, the tomorrow of yesterday, and i would like to sleep now.

Did you hear me listening?

I know you had chicken chop because I didn't hang up the phone after you thought you did.

My face pressed against the window grills, I looked across the street at where you should be. Right there. The clattering of the background noise sounded almost melodic. Occasionally, you waltzed in and out of my ear. My eyes will close as I hold the phone closer, straining to hear every single treble of your voice. I could feel you, the image nearly complete.

Didn't matter that I was running late for my appointment. In that moment, time was running in the past tense, a destination that I couldn't catch, anyway.

Six, seven minutes went on in this long distance call, till you got lucky, I hello-ed to a numbing white sheet of silence, and the signal was lost.

on and on

the dreams are still coming.
what is contained in the day
tores free in the darkest of nights

and the morning after
carries the weight of the wanton excursion;
imprints of your name in this pillaged heart

Enchanted

What or how to feel. My feelings spinned in a daze this whole day while it was aglow in fuzzy warmth. Am i better at concealing my emotions already; the many times when my sense of you slipped below the horizon, you were in sight, but you were gone, and my heart sank as I took deep silent breaths. in my own silence. your voice rings in the background to the phone in a tone once familiar and so crushingly close. I sit in the greatest cold, shivering from within, with your scent submerging me in you, yet remained impermeable, insensitive to the fading grasps of my fingertips.

.

put me to sleep