godspeed my love

I don't want to end up like Joanna so I painted ridges on the tips of my fingers so that you can navigate your way to me even when you're lost. Not all hope is lost not all hope is lost then I realise I have lost all hope and my hands are shaking and I see lighting in the corner of my eyes

don't even know what I'll say when I get to you-maybe I never will

I didn't want you to know that when I was sixteen, I was fascinated with the idea of a lover across the oceans bounded only by the power of our words and indelible ink, traveling nautical miles that someday will end up in continental Europe or Russia

time is not enough, I don't know what else, I look across the river and imagine you there with me under the lights during winter

When I imagine you as a child, I imagine your infinite selves, and one that could not have met me but you did and here, here the destruction of the purpose and fate culminate into pain for me and freedom of you-often it is unfair, and perhaps I am the only one to blame because I make it so. Sometimes you wonder if I ever forgave you, I told you there was nothing to forgive except for you to apologize for having met me in the first place

I keep finding things that don't belong to me because you gave them to me- I cannot look at it and I feel like all I can do is cry

all in days to come, my love-godspeed

a moment: it was a wednesday last november, and the leaves barely turned crimson orange, cringing from embarrassment