Vacancy

(Kumi Machida)

When a life is over,
the one you were living for,
where do you go?

- Anne Sexton (Killing The Love, poem)

Long and narrow paths that no one will ever travel, that is your memory imprinted in the abyss held underneath my body. There's a voice calling from far away, it speaks of the lights that are fading and shutting away the unattainable. A secret will always be inside the mystery that built and shattered our souls. We are the lies that our fingertips traced while we touched our bodies. One simple thought can bear a multitude of turmoil hidden beneath the skin. Sometimes, when we take the risk of giving it is simultaneously tearing away our freedom of being. In exchange for the madness we pursue new beginnings with empty words that never belonged to us. And yet one piece remains to be evident, that this we call eternal will never be good enough. For what we held was a prelude, a glimpse into the forgotten hours that soon we will not care to remember. The silence is always there, growing upon the broken roads that lead us to escape.

All that we have loved is a great fallacy.

No, it is not these lives that we hold what makes us believe, it is the vacancy that we carry as we walk along with ourselves and name it our existence.