|for some future goal, or for other people. (:|
i didn't know how to tell you i didn't know how to tell you things, so i tried to speak them through the authors that were talented enough to read my intentions, perhaps seventy years ago, maybe a century.i didn't know how to tell you by ~savannahwu
he livened the paper with her pen tip, and she quoted passages that thundered through her nerves--that was the way they spoke of truth, and it was always the same texture as unvoiced desires. burning, burning to be a universal healing, yet fearing with ulterior exhaustion.
and so they realized their love was not love but a need:
a lonely selfish undesirable warmth that could not be fulfilled
they hated the world yet could not breathe surrender
when she left, she inh
a requiema delay in reality, a melancholy cadence in the chambers of a gilded chapela requiem by ~savannahwu
as if the lost soul departed from the material world and now casts its shadow within a corner of the present conscience. there it stays, haunting and guiding the troubled soul with its chilling obscurity, 'forgetting' is not available. it is the oddity, the streaks of memories one delivers to another's eyes. the mourners grieve for their hollow windpipes, carry soft words of sorry wishes unspoken, excuse the inconvenient, and remember the unattainable with a raw trembling heart
is this an awakening?
what is the passing soul
will you forgive me
distraction? is this the