we no longer share the same bedroom, but there’s a window that reminds me of you
there’s a window in my room
that displays the insides of my head
and that includes everything we have shared
the first time we met
the first time we laugh
the first time we don’t say “love you”
but also the first time we say “ew”
as a way to say “love you”
i’ve been playing back those moments
like it’s a favorite track from spotify
like it’s the tune to set up my mood
like it’s a breakfast, lunch, and dinner
i need it like a breath
yes, i’ve been playing back those moments
because we haven’t write new ones
since your fingers withered
–lately, i see more of your typos
but i still get you, like most of the times
and you still have me, like always
the first time i silently cry
you could know from seeing my morning after eyes
the first time i openly cry
you took the tissue box from your table
the first time i couldn’t breathe
you were there, confused, but there
then i always became more at ease
the first time you spent the night outside
i couldn’t sleep–thinking whether you’re safe
the first time you cry on the phone
i wondered whether you had enough tissues
the first time you’re breathing hardly
i wasn’t there, confused, but still you told me
how you’ve been breathing through a tube
how it gets exhausting just to speak
now i am hardly breathing
pausing my own breath
thinking whether you’re safe
so i keep looking at the window
as it plays memories
i selected
to repeat
before you can write new ones again
when you finally breathe on your own again
or do you want to let go?
let me know?
while we’re at it,
let me harvest every seeds of joy we shared
the two am fast food delivery
the trashy translations of indo pop songs
the annoyingly fun wikispeedruns
the build-a-house in sims sessions
the “ew”s instead of “i love you”s
let me plan to keep planting
with or without–
you live in me, always
in peace, you finally rest
in power, you continue to live
inside our hearts
there’s an emptiness forming
inside me
feels empty
from all the fullness
i have had before
the lump of love is now a gaping hole
and what i had is taken away
i am no longer someone’s something
i am no longer someone’s friend
you are no longer my friend
you were my friend
so when someone else ask about you
there’s a dead air as i am trying to make all words alive
put them in pieces like a floating puzzle above my head
but all the sentences i can make revolves around the loss,
the detachment, and the fading of my own meaning.
i am… still me
who have crumpled papers of unfinished eulogies
who have erased waterproof mascaras with river of tears
who have blown cremated dust on secret alleyways
who have carved love on dozens of headstones
who have arranged flowers on resting places
who have walk away from scorching cemeteries
who have sleep with a gaping hole but will find a way to fill full again
and still, i can see you on that window
somehow i’ve wait for you to knock
but you don’t
you can no longer knock
but thank you for knocking when you could
you came into my life
be a part of my story
staying for years
it was a pleasure to live at the same time with you
it was an honor to have you in my life
you were such a wonderful roommate
you were such a caring friend
you were such a magnificent guest
