In fact, this is not a poem at all. I used to write a poem on a special day, but somehow I don’t have the inspiration any more.
12th June. This is an important date. Today is a special day.
It was the day on which I had the last memory from you. 12th June, 2003.
Two years ago, when I received that parcel. When I saw a little slip with your very symbol on.
Silver brackets, blue writing. Best wishes.
I saw my name on your envelope.
Then I cried and cried again. Well, nothing unusual for me.
I felt so sad, just the same as how I feel today.
So sad. So sad, so sad. The very thought of you can break my mind into pieces.
The pain is more and more intense. I miss you, I love you. I cannot leave you. I can’t just pass by you!
Especially, especially, when I am so close to you….
Do you know? I have just finished my reading today on Microbiology. Today’s topic is “Virus Structure”.
I really hate sentimentalising things. Personalising is a different matter.
Am I going to meet you again in two weeks’ time?
Am I going to cry again?
Am I the wrong person to love you?
What is the “worst-case scenario”?
Am I in trouble, or am I the trouble myself?
Only if I could associate Microbiology with something else.
Not you, not you, not you. It should be the other you.
Your derivative, your younger sister, your only neighbour.
Only if I did not remember you. I have said goodbye so many times.
Everything is so vividly painful. So painful, so painful, so painful.
Why did you use two envelopes?
Everything…so clearly remembered…your reflection…your indifference….
That day will never come back. Let me forget everything about you.
That pathway is a cul-de-sac. There is no second turn.
If the continuity of something has to be kept, it cannot be continuous.
If the uniqueness of something has to be unchanged, it cannot be unique.
I am neither continuous nor unique.
Don’t make me cry again. My hormones are not that stable.
What is the point of doing all these?
What is the point of doubting the act of doing all these?
I am being split into two halves. Two halves of a single square bracket.
Written by me, written for me.
Still so painful. My suffocating love.
The love that I can give up everything to protect.
The love that controls my existence.
“I have no regret.”
Did I really say it?
Perhaps our love was destined to end then. When I said “Hello” to you.
At the wrong time, the wrong place, to the wrong person.
I just could not realise the fact that I could not be yours. Self-hypnosis is futile, no matter how much I love you.
Please. Help me to say goodbye again.
Please. Help me to forget. Help me to go to the other place without secretly looking over the barbed wire.
Please. Let me have something from you again. Anything.
I cannot leave you. I cannot stop my tears. I cannot inhibit the pain.
Let me say hello again, in two weeks’ time.
Nobody else will be with me.
Please…trust me.
12th June. This is an important date. Today is a special day.
It was the day on which I had the last memory from you. 12th June, 2003.
Two years ago, when I received that parcel. When I saw a little slip with your very symbol on.
Silver brackets, blue writing. Best wishes.
I saw my name on your envelope.
Then I cried and cried again. Well, nothing unusual for me.
I felt so sad, just the same as how I feel today.
So sad. So sad, so sad. The very thought of you can break my mind into pieces.
The pain is more and more intense. I miss you, I love you. I cannot leave you. I can’t just pass by you!
Especially, especially, when I am so close to you….
Do you know? I have just finished my reading today on Microbiology. Today’s topic is “Virus Structure”.
I really hate sentimentalising things. Personalising is a different matter.
Am I going to meet you again in two weeks’ time?
Am I going to cry again?
Am I the wrong person to love you?
What is the “worst-case scenario”?
Am I in trouble, or am I the trouble myself?
Only if I could associate Microbiology with something else.
Not you, not you, not you. It should be the other you.
Your derivative, your younger sister, your only neighbour.
Only if I did not remember you. I have said goodbye so many times.
Everything is so vividly painful. So painful, so painful, so painful.
Why did you use two envelopes?
Everything…so clearly remembered…your reflection…your indifference….
That day will never come back. Let me forget everything about you.
That pathway is a cul-de-sac. There is no second turn.
If the continuity of something has to be kept, it cannot be continuous.
If the uniqueness of something has to be unchanged, it cannot be unique.
I am neither continuous nor unique.
Don’t make me cry again. My hormones are not that stable.
What is the point of doing all these?
What is the point of doubting the act of doing all these?
I am being split into two halves. Two halves of a single square bracket.
Written by me, written for me.
Still so painful. My suffocating love.
The love that I can give up everything to protect.
The love that controls my existence.
“I have no regret.”
Did I really say it?
Perhaps our love was destined to end then. When I said “Hello” to you.
At the wrong time, the wrong place, to the wrong person.
I just could not realise the fact that I could not be yours. Self-hypnosis is futile, no matter how much I love you.
Please. Help me to say goodbye again.
Please. Help me to forget. Help me to go to the other place without secretly looking over the barbed wire.
Please. Let me have something from you again. Anything.
I cannot leave you. I cannot stop my tears. I cannot inhibit the pain.
Let me say hello again, in two weeks’ time.
Nobody else will be with me.
Please…trust me.
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