joanne: in my own words

Let me sing a song for you,
Please sit and listen to the tune,
This ain't no song of greatness,
But only a voice of a girl,
Singing about her world.

So let me sing a song for you,
Please please please, do listen to the tune,
All I wish is for you to hear me,
As I sing about my days,
Now sing with me if you may.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Under the Crimson Cloven Skies of October

Under the crimson cloven skies of October, I said goodbye to him. Quickly, he held my hand and pulled me into his arms - so tightly, I barely could breathe. A part of me wanted to break free and just walk away, never to look back. But there was still this part of me that wished to linger on... only for awhile longer.

The evening wind had just started to blow gently across the green field which was now tinted yellow by the setting sun. The withering oak trees casted light shadows over the meadows down the hill where we stood. Silence enveloped around us like there was no other more solemn place in the world than where we were standing.

He cried suddenly.

Tightening his grip around my body, streams of hot tears flowed down his cheeks like a waterfall. He hugged me even closer. The familiar smell of his cologne filled my nostrils. I knew this would be my last time to catch a whiff of that scent. With his face buried in my hair and his chin rested on my left shoulder, I could feel his warmth, so comforting to me once upon a time ago.

Like a mannequin, I stood there stiffly in his arms. As if I was lost in my own reverie, I stared blankly into the clouds above. I could see the sparrows flying swiftly in the sky and I whispered silently to myself, wishing to be like them - soaring so freely with wings unfurled.

But the birds, they were singing a chorus; a melody so sad and cold, it brought me to tears too. It was as if the birds were mourning with us, dedicating this day as the last chapter of our love story.

Memories, one by one, started to float back, flashing before my eyes. There were moments of laughter and of joy; there were also moments of tears and of sadness; our first date and our first kiss; the journey we traveled together - the sunshine and the storms; and especially, I could still remember vividly how his skin felt against mine; the warmth, the texture, the scent - it was all coming back.

Did I make a mistake? Did I make a wrong decision? Did we have to end it?

I lifted both my arms to hug him back, to tell him that we could rewind and go back to where we had left, to tell him not to cry anymore and that every thing would be okay, to look him in the eyes and say that I still love him and will always do. I had waited so long, I can still wait some more; I had loved him for so long, I could still continue loving him, why should I even stop now?

But my arms stayed where they were, as stiffly as the other limbs. I could not bring myself to love him anymore. My heart was now broken. Something died inside. The bitter cold now reigned sovereignly in it - my heart was now an ice palace, waiting... just waiting for the slightest glow of warmth to revive it. It won't be for a thousand years.

And so, under the crimson cloven skies of October, I said goodbye to him.

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