走了 * 完了

11.55pm 有一架飞机
载着我 65kg 的心
他15kg 的行李
到阿姆斯特丹
再往密歇根出发

残局一直都在
我没收拾
痴痴等待
以为你会回来

走了

完了

没了

只留下那撒满地
尖锐的
透明的
年少无知岁月
情窦初开梦
碎片

Someone Else

There is indeed someone else.

Me, another selfish,
Unappreciative bitch.
Instead of being thankful
And
Satisfied,
My heart and mind chose to wander.

There is indeed someone else.

Eyes fell upon this face,
Upon that face;
This arm,
That arm;
Touched that shoulder,
This shoulder.

There is indeed someone else.

So similar.
From the bone structure,
To the proportion of the features,
And the colour of the skin and eyes,
The firmness of the muscles.
Lastly,
To the attention attained,
And the treatment I get.

There is indeed someone else.

And I always fall back to the
Someone else,
Because he's all I got to hold
And all I got the lose.

You.
One, two, three, four, et cetera.
Traits of all that I fall hopelessly into,
Pray do not haunt me.
Nevermore.

The Moment: Sinking into the Night

Most of the time, you either sleep through the night, stare through the night, or you dance through the night.

No, you never sink through the night.

You never felt the languid ripples the wind sends forth as you breathe in the chilly air, the way they melt your skin and diffuse into it to make you one of them. You never bathed in the water of the night and take in the coldness of it.

The coldness which was, at the same time, familiar and homely.

A slow trance, like a dying ballerina doing her last pirouette. Her toes are weary of supporting her body weight, her hands falter, yet her legs were firm and did not give up. The last thread of strength waltzing out of her. Her pirouette comes to a stand still, she falls.

Gracefully like a breathless swan. And she sinks into the water.

Into the night we go.

十二月十五：我。你

什么地方灯红酒绿？
十二月十五，舞池上的你，
揽住谁的腰逗情趣；
去年、今天、是我在你怀里，
述说月食和那流星雨。
星坠、梦尽：我已醒。
梦成烟，多谢你无心的一句。

一早结束的暧昧游戏，
是我仍旧坚持继续。

十二月十五，蒲公英之季，
包含着我安静的失去，
无痛、无声、唯红血滴滴，
因为流失的不是体力。
我的世界没有你，
面对前头路的是勇气。

“晚安，亲爱的，”我微笑地走下去，
十二月十五，再见的日期。

December 15: You . Me

Where is this lust and wine in green?
You on the dance floor, December 15,
Caressing someone's delicate waist, flirting;
This day, last year, it was I you were holding,
And our talks about meteor showers and an eclipse.
A fallen star, a dream ends: reality, I am in.
From dream to dust, it is your ignorance I am thanking.

It ended, this intimate game imbued with sin,
I was the one who still insisted on playing.

The season of daffodils, December 15,
My silent loss, all wrapped within,
Painless, soundless, only crimson is dripping,
Because strength is not what I am losing.
A world without you is mine and there's only me
To face the journey ahead, I have courage and bravery.

I smile as I leave, "Bon nuit, mon cheri,"
Auf wiedersehen, December 15.

Lie vs.Truth

oooThe worst lie I told,
Was that I told our little friends
That I deleted them:
Pieces of you.

oooThe only truth I know
Is that the more I hide
From you,
The more you haunt my sleep.

I spent time convincing myself,
And imagining.
That if I were to see you,
oooI will walk away not knowing you.

There, my blatant lie.
And everytime I see your face,
Breath escapes in a gasp.
oooThis much is true.

The Moment: Arsenic Wine

Sleepwalking, I stumbled upon glass of wine.

Burgundy juice, serenely resting in its crystal prison, not a ripple. I dipped a finger into it, shuddered, because it was cold. Like a nearly frozen lake in the middle of winter, I thought. My finger started to stir it: maybe I could make it warm.

Warm enough to drink.

But no, it was a futile effort and it can never be warm. He is too good to me, too noble to hide daggers behind silk curtains. "It'll be better. Less painful," he told me.

I withdraw my finger with a lonely droplet clinging on the tip of it. Without delay I drank it, like a thirsty traveler deprived of water for days. My head swirled: that was the very first symptom.

Instinct told me to flee and save myself, never to come back; yet curiosity drove me further to take a sip. As cold wine took over my throat, my senses numbed. Every swallow hurt, every cut deeper.

Yet I still went back for it. Perhaps I wanted to end it like this, with pain and misery. It's easier to give up this way, isn't it?

And I went back for more, and more, and more... Laughing at my naive folly as I drunk myself, indirectly, killing myself.

Three Cuts for My Darling

First cut:
oooFor the times you
ooooPour your smiles on
oooooThis
Deformed face of mind.

Second cut:
oooI lick and savour
ooooThe crimson warmth,
oooooLike your every hug
That enfolded me.

Third cut:
oooHoney on my wouds
ooooThat reminded me of
oooooEvery word you said to me,
I shall never forget.

And you will find me
Asleep in my bed,
Like a child, undisturbed.
Because I believe
That tomorrow is a better day.

That is if I forget today.

How easy it is to say
But how difficult it is to do.
That's why I was asleep,
That's why I'll never awake.

The Moment: Milk Chocolate Melting

When he asked me, there was the sly smile on his lips. Although thin as a thread but I could sense it intimidating me, daring me, challenging me to follow.

And I did, like a lost kitten towards its mother.

I missed it, walking side by side with him. There was the familiar and heartwarming scent, the languid oozing of warmth, and the silent smiles shadowed by lurid sunlight. Somehow there was gauche in the air.

Breaking the silence with small talk only to be interrupted by a shrill squeak. More hugs exchanged and we symphatised him who stood there alone, faking impatience. Perhaps it was my will, or him pulling the invisible bonding silk on my feet, I left them and followed swiftly.

To be back again is good. Normality is what we citizens crave.

With the light blue building in front against the morning sun, our chatter hushed into the fresh vibe of the breaking of day. Our short promenade tasted of milk chocolate, melting gradually in the wind and serene ambience.

Existence

It was the cigar smoke,
No,
It was my soul.

Twirling,
oooCircles,
ooooooLife is a never-ending merry-go-round.

Dissipated in the air,
The light permeated me,
And I saw your face:

For the first time I said to myself,
____"I am beautiful."

I hope you saw me
And heard me.