it was on nights like this that i remembered you. no i won't go into poetry tonight; i won't write, for example, that the moonlight streamed through my curtains to bask my memory of you in silence, or that the stars were arranged in immaculate order to best display their demeanour. but it was on nights like this - like what i could not say; words fail me when i need them most; but tap into my inner spring, and there you will find a neverending flow of feelings which ultimately lead me to an end which will never arrive (that i know and i know well); thus again and again it turns right back to the start like a spiral of fatalistic thoughts, and then again and again growing to become a river of sorrows; perpetually repeating itself and finally would lead a peaceful consumption of my whole - that moment i patiently await and i still await so; for it was on nights like this that -
that i remembered you. i would wake up in the middle of the night and taste salt on my pillow; i didn't know if the moon was shining or if the clouds had contributed to its hollow; i didn't observe if the stars were present or if they had been swallowed. i don't know how to describe nights like this; i kept reliving the scene in which you slowly faded into blurred frames of my distant memory, leaving me lonely, leaving me lonely. but i know it was on nights like this; it was on nights like this that i missed you so.
love has been reduced to become an empty vessel. funny how the word now resonates repeatedly in my mind, when all i can feel (and all i'm left to feel) is sheer pleasure of indulgence in an absolute state of nothingness.
10:53 PM - and Time will say nothing but 'I told you so'. Check out Chinese version of my bleeding voice [here].
