Every December

In one night, I became undone
two years ago. Falling apart
in another's hands
It wasn't my choice -
I didn't choose this.
In fact, I had no say
and yet I'm the one who remembers
and unravells, crying
because I live with it now.

This was two years ago
and it comes back every December
before Christmas,
and I feel plagued
and diseased,
almost ragged like the old doll
thrown to the side.

Friday, November 28, 2008

The end has finally come and I'm now going through all the crap which I've brought to school this term. Basically, it's a huge mess. Any more packing and I'd die. Now really, I've wanted to get so many things done this term before I leave but so far I've been unsuccessful on a couple things. There has been this one thing which I've been trying to do over the past term but haven't really been able to. I was almost successful on a couple occasions but failed in the the end. Looks like I won't be able to get it done after all.

It's quite sad really. Disappointing to a certain extent. I still have half a day tomorrow but I highly doubt anything will happen.

*listens to roommate cough*

Bloody dust bunnies.

No Knocks on the Door

The windows don't let much sunlight in this time of year.

I lean against the radiator to keep myself warm. There is very little in this room that keeps me warm now that winter is pushing its way through. There's a mug of hot coffee on the side table but it's quickly becoming cold. The thought of drinking lukewarm coffee isn't very appealing.

The four walls feel like they're cracking and the ceiling about to come down over my head. I've got the sniffles, you see - the world always feels like it's going to end when you're ill. I sit against the radiator feeling sorry for myself.

My throat feels hoarse - I've lost my voice. I can't speak and haven't spoken to anyone in awhile. I'm not inundated with text messages or emails from people wondering where I've gone to. No one knows I'm ill and house-bound so it's a wonder why they aren't wondering about me.

I look at the door, wishing I would hear a knock from someone who's worried about me. But there's nothing. And as the sunsets and the winter cold bites even more, I've given up hope that there will be a knock on the door. My head is now pounding and I don't think I can sit up any more. I lie down and close my eyes. I can hear a dog barking outside the house and a car zooming by but that's about it.

There's still no knock on the door and no one to care for me.

Please don't forget me

Please don't forget me.
I know you left me at the bend
and told me you weren't coming back
but at the very least
please don't forget me.

I remember -
I remember the first spent over coffee
and the awkward hugs
and the nervous twiddling of thumbs.
I remember a lot and I hope
you remember some.

Please don't forget me
I know you left me at the bend
and I know you're not coming back
but at the very least
for the sake of the past
please don't forget me.

Notes

If this were to be my last note -
last words,
I would cite loneliness as the reason
for my departure.
And when the life ebbs away
from the veins in my hands
I will remember the last moments
I spent without you
lying in bed, writing more notes and letters
only to have them not received
by your hands which once cared for me.
And when I go,
remember the notes I wrote
and where they lie now,
under your bed
and think about the past which is now
long gone
and think of how you played a part in my going
and how this was the only 'meant to be'.

A Script from My Timeline: Oblivious (Vignette #7)

Apparently, I lost something yesterday.

It must have fallen out of my pocket as I was rushing to catch my train. I was running late and in my haste to get on the train, it must have fallen out and landed somewhere on the snowy pavement.

I wasn't aware I had lost anything. My day continued as it normally does - busy at work with phone calls and demanding clients. As I returned and walked the same snowy pavement back to the house, I didn't notice it lying on the ground.

It's been a week since I apparently lost it and I don't think it'll be where I dropped it anymore. It may have been washed away when the snow melted or it may have been picked up by someone else. If it was the latter, I doubt this someone else would ever understand how much it once meant to me. Only I will remember how much I cherished it and kept it so carefully once upon a time. But, now I've lost it and I don't think I'll ever get it back.

Sometimes it's hard to notice what's been lost. I had kept it in my pocket for so long I had forgotten it was there to begin with. Perhaps had I kept it in my shirt pocket, closer to my heart, I would still have it. But instead I abandoned it in the right pocket of my winter coat and hastily got on with my life. 

I should feel sad but to be honest, I'm not sure if I am fully aware that I've lost something. I wonder how long it will take me to notice. Perhaps, one day, on one of my train journeys, I'll absent-mindedly rummage through the right pocket of my coat, and realise it's no longer there.

And when that does happen, the rest of my journey to work will seem very lonely and I'll be filled with regret.