The night was different shades of black with gold specs, and the moon was a silver goddess shining brightly onto the world when she left.
A fleeting love that died like the wilted roses of winter as snow blinkered all our colours in white.
The train came at 21:05, and that was that gone in a haze she was just a face staring back from a window with a tear writing sadness upon her cheek.
The snow of winter turned grey as it was muddied by the boots of people trudging their days away mindlessly while I noticed every little wish unfulfilled in the stars.
A plane shot through my vision, pointing as if it was going to the moon, a trail behind it that is poison in its own polluting way.
It occurred to me then that life itself was pollution, everything was spinning on this globe, and everything was interacting within it.
Yet we pulled ourselves outside of it with our distractions and words, but I know now it was only ever an illusion.
That we are the earth, as are the birds and the other beasts that share this world.
And the train shook on the tracks, our goodbyes said only in our staring eyes as the train rushed past, and I knew I’d never see her again.
yet she was still the earth as was I, even after the train tracks drew a divide between us
I didn’t yet know if that was comforting or all the more painful.
These goodbyes always feel like the end of the world, still, it turns, but somehow it doesn’t always help to remember that fact.
Our emotions never could stick to the notion of calendars and diary planners sometimes, an anniversary feels too quick in the heart and loss too long in the dark.
Neither of us waved, our eyes blinking through the sadness that words couldn’t express.
My eyes took a picture of her face in the window while it never left; it fades as the days go by, her absence getting more noticeable with every feature lost in the memory.
It seems to me absence is a lot like a cockroach
nothing can kill these beasts