July 24, 2008

• miss

     

  in the strange quietness that blankets the haze that hangs around the street lamp, i am thinking of bygone eras, episodes that were once my life.  there's a lull to the music as it hangs on separate notes, suspended and spread out through the room, yet strangely unattainable.  i miss.  it's like holding out a hand to lay hold of something so presently before you, yet so simultaneously ephemeral.  missed.  i wish you were here.  i wish all that was you were here.  and yet you dance around me, playful, but only enjoyable by you.

  i tried so hard to recapture that moment.  i tried so hard to evoke what i had felt.  but as the music swelled and waned, my emotions went with it, too.  when i speak the words, they sound different.  they are factual, but devoid of that inhalation that made my chest fill with a shortage of air.  when i gasped, the thought vanished, and i was left...alone.  miss.

  what is this thing we do?  trying to pin down moments.  capture them on film so that we can revisit them on different days.  the images are so flat and lifeless.  they remain crisp in their form, yet so unforgiving in their nature.  i stroke your smile, but i feel nothing.  even if i shed a tear, the fan quickly swallows it up, and i wonder if anyone would even care.

  i want to stop.  but the voices are calling.  they swim in my head in different intervals.  they are brought forth by a certain smell.  a touch.  a simple household object.  sometimes you ask me where i've gone because i stop mid-sentence.  i'm pulled back into that moment.  that street where we walked one night, under the same orange glow of the street light.  we played a game where i told you all of the onomatopoeic words in my language, and you tried to guess what they meant.  doongle doongle.  it's the fat that hangs over someone's belt and jiggles as they walk.  bbanjjak bbanjjak.  it's the sound of fake five-pointed stars twinkling, best made by stars that have smiley faces on them.  your language was much harder.  and some of your examples were gross.

  hello?  you call me back.  where have i gone.  i was missed.  but i've returned.

  push.  pull.  back.  forth.  sway.  sway.  sway.

  i wish all that is in my heart could come out on this page - perfectly verbalized and devoid of grammatical mistakes, but the heart is a vault of shapeless masses that speak their own language.  when spilled out on a page, they need translation, or at least a secret decoder in order to be understood.  more often than not, i stand there with my mouth gaped open.  ready.  willing.  wanting to talk and yet not having anything to say.  miss.

  • 10:36 pm
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