I’m leaving everything for once and for all. I’m the changing season that falls on your lap, every time the silent night weeps beside your door as you turn helplessly on your bed falling and rising in your dreams.
I’m the broken records that are kept away in cupboards, locked in a forgotten time. Abandoned and unkempt. I still breathe in those fluorescent lights that fills the empty spaces only momentarily, making me crave so much so little.
I am the liar that flicks on your screen, appearing and disappearing in a mist of distractions. I am good at hiding you know, the landscapes that crosses your indispensable memory, often camouflaging people like insects. A human buzz.
I am the bad adhesive called music. The believer of turning back time. I hold on to those broken something, only to guide you through. The evanescent process of letting go. A slow moment, way too fast. You fall apart as I leave. This time more gracefully and wisely.
You searched for me in chaos. The chaos of unaware footsteps pacing by. I’m the wayfarer that intrudes through windows ajar. Falling like the winter into those rooms of despair. People call me magic sometimes, a subtle prayer that falls through those wrinkled lips, accepting in a whisper.
I live among the intertwined fingers. The knuckles red with fear. The caress of one hand over another soothes you down, as melancholy plays with your hair. You know it is time to leave. You look back for a final time, and I smile with my emotions heavy. Not a final adieu, as we both know by now.
I’m the light that caskets your existence when the tears fall across the cold floor refusing to wash away with the tides. The moon slowly falls across the horizon taking back with her what you haven’t accepted. I move a bit closer to you this time, my breathe almost audible as I whisper ‘It’s okay to feel like this. You have come through a lot.’
And I fade away with the first morning prayer as I know by now, you will rise up once again through melancholy, through misery and this time you won’t be searching for me into this lost wilderness of emotions where every road is the one less traveled rather make your way out for once and for all.
Copyright Jumbled Letters.