I never expected to feel this way. To see how the time has changed and added age to your face. You once took my breath away and simply by a view in a photograph, I know it’s not right that you’re not here too. To be here at the same time would be uncanny, and to see you again, I might just laugh. You opened the beginning for me, and I folded up the end for you, not on purpose, but in a way that you might have done as well. Words not spoken in silence left me wondering if the world would continue to spin when you left. I knew it would, it had to. Breathing was easier before you, and living in a shell was safe. The dare to live life on the edge, question the rules and never look back to see who’s chasing me. A plea to stay, and not to leave, knowing I’m needed here.
Lives have come and gone, started and ended, both with a broken beginning and a frayed ending. To be on the ground where I once started, where questioning an existence was all one could really do. All of this done in white houses. Not clean but buzzing with a vibrancy of hours. A simple standard that leaves a sweet taste on the tongue, counting the flavors to be picked apart. Counting the flavors only to be brought to one: Life.
And so it is… In my strange country.