It was not easy — the battle within,
to wrestle with feelings; where should I begin?
Not easy to hide, to shield from your view
the thought that my silence might one day hurt you.
Apologies linger, though the words feel so frail —
no action, no phrase, can rewrite the tale.
If only a moment, a click, could erase
the shadows that linger, the paths we misplaced.
Undoubtedly, you are the best thing that has happened to me.
I know it is very hard to live life with me, but I promise: I will keep trying to understand you, more and more — and not to be so serious.
I really want everything to work out well. I know it will — but somewhere, somebody has to take the pain of it, and I don’t want it to be you. So I will.
And no doubt, because of that, I am no longer the very cool person I once was; but my love for you hasn’t changed, not a little — it is the same as it always was, and as it ever will be.
I love you. And I am sorry for upsetting you.
I pass by morning again,
to see myself walking down the same roads;
some are with me, others lost in the past;
you come and go — but I wait, in one corner of my life…
There you come, as my beloved,
hold my hand, and wish for nothing else;
love yourself, and I love the world, and my desire — you;
and holding myself in one corner of life, I wonder nothing else.
And then comes the battle, and the loss;
I run from you, and from your love;
I watch you go, and come, and ruin my life;
in one corner of my life, I regret, day after day…
And with the morning now past,
I hold one more desire, longing for one more;
lost and lost, to wherever everyone has been —
from one corner, I watch life go on, like this.
I tried, and cried, and cried again,
but I never said goodbye;
afraid of losing what I’d already lost,
I kept hoping for one more try.
A different way to start the fight,
to seek another exit out;
failing in every single attempt,
I kept recalling my hollow pride.
The this, the that, the why, the what —
I made up every excuse;
outside the box, I poured out my lies,
still hoping to keep you by my side.
Once, I made a mistake,
and I paid for it a long, long way;
I didn’t find a slope, but hope —
something that might heal my wounds again.
I gave it one final try,
until the day I finally realized:
I had hoped, but was never welcomed,
and possession was no medal to win.
But a miracle was meant to happen —
to meet someone, and to matter;
and I came through it changed, and now I know —
I owe a change in me.
One day, hurt and confused,
I looked around — where am I?
I was trying to find myself again,
but the mirror of my guilt stood before me.
I looked at him; he stared back at me.
Tired, at last, of trying to neglect him,
he still followed me —
am I his shadow, or is he me?
Confusing… but at least it is my own.
I thought as much, and moved on,
yet paranoia was all I felt;
there was nothing left to see.
I have come to understand one thing:
running away was never the solution.
What shall I tell my soul now,
lost in the depth of all I don’t have now?
I was wrong, and somewhere, so were you…
Things were never as bad as they seemed.
A few uttered words of my soul,
and a few of hers, dissolved it all—
the unnamed thing we had between us.
Hope is all I can do, and all I have now.
Things will be the same again someday;
I’ll hold the same dreams in my eyes
and taste those tears of joy once more.
I’ll hear those words one day—
but silence is all I assume for now.
I’ve heard it often: time heals all wounds.
But feeling—can it ever be surpassed?
This is the one thing I know, after all of this:
some things will never bend to your will.
So I let go of all my complaining—
forgive me, because I was wrong.