and i found myself always wanting that i now fear the way i will stay. all the things said and all the things unasked and forgotten leaves emptier spaces and wounds a little tender. all the things lived and even the ones we just kept on minds leaves the skin a little more aware and loved and scared. i admire the end of things as much as i despise it for in endings, there’s where i can wonder how could i be in memories. what are the ways i will leave, what in my ways will be hated. how to be alive in dead things, how to be as soft and as gentle as i can never be, how will i be seen if i’m at the edge of being nameless? sometimes, i thought, in remembering, there you will start to forget things too. for they are just coming to pass. and you’re bound to not notice the simple aches. long absences are all over its ways and there, i’m always on its edge brutally spending time making it mean something. i always fear they didn’t see what i was when i’m with them. now, i just hope i am not something that lingers.
i hope i don’t leave or i just don’t stay at all. i hope i don't leave so much to remember that it starts to feel like some hurt that failed to come through. or that feeling before you have it—some kind of premonition when it’s about to hurt or the worry of losing being so closed to a skin. sometimes, i speak so strange and sometimes, i sound so certain. i bound to miss things and lose them just like a mad lover. and i’m forever running away. it’s in time that i can never hold things. i can just go through it and leave a bit of me. oftentimes, i think that i failed to do so. and what more can you do when you missed the chance? what else is there to do when you forgot to be kinder and give a little more for them to love? but in ways i stayed, i hope they doesn’t hurt. but they would, because i’d be in empty places even if i stayed being loved. i just hope they’d feel strange or they are meant to fade. just like a time forgetting it’s never unspent. i fear so i hope i am not something that stays too much i could be seen in things because i never did stop. i am just like every sigh. i just have things as i become them and i go by. half-forgotten, i go by and i go by—
without my heart every once in a while.
— 01:37 l. sin, where i was
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»» photo (without the words in it) taken from @dearbird on We Heart It
