Someone whispered, “You’re gonna get a hole in your head”.
My parasol bounced rhythmically, though summer was still taking its nap.
Training wheels bounced along the asphalt as another page of my photo album turned.
At a railroad crossing, a train overtook my heartbeat. I stood frozen in place, all alone.
lilachorn Re.La Horn
lilachorn Re.La Horn
My curtain-less windows seemed sacred at times.
The sky was always so gentle, though it does seem to have lost some of its color.
Impatiens and my ring finger: there’s no sense of touch
On nights the metronome’s shadow, and the incandescent lights, seem so distant.
“Thank you,” just isn’t enough. So I go on living.
My mind turned to the far-off sea.
“Thank you,” just isn’t enough. So I go on living.
I took an oath that day.
Clouds of dust, hiding my secret temperature. A slight fever in my eyes willing me to awaken.
I listen to the passing of time, visible in the cracks between orange rubble.
At the top of this hill illuminated by the sun, I surveyed the spirit of the wind.
I’ll never see that person again—I wonder if my dreams can be a blank canvas once more.
Reflected in the mirror, my past still seemed so fresh.
Time never loses its warmth, though it does seem to be quite weathered.
I counted every last hurtful word.
Like the black and white of a keyboard. Like a moonlit path leading home.
“Thank you,” just isn’t enough. So I go on living.
I wished for the far-off sea.
“Thank you,” just isn’t enough. So I go on living.
I made an oath that day.
Standing at the corner of the pier, I listen to the sound of waves crumbling away.
It sounded like endlessly laughing voices. I forgot to even breathe.
The light of sunset glittered along fences and I lost track of my starting line.
The person who’d once shown me the way is…
Training wheels bounced along the asphalt as another page of my photo album turned.
At a railroad crossing, a train overtook my heartbeat. I stood frozen in place, all alone.
At the top of this hill illuminated by the sun, I surveyed the spirit of the wind.
I’ll never see that person again—I wonder if my dreams can be a blank canvas once more.
lilachorn Re.La Horn
lilachorn Re.La Horn
“Thank you,” just isn’t enough. So I go on living…
Until the day I’ll sleep beneath the sea.