and every time it rains, I wish you were still waiting for me
at a place, called home
Everything will fade, from the fragrance of someone you love to the color of the sky. My inaccurate memories are fading, one day, the remaining bits and pieces will only be the collection of the selected things that I desire to remember. Memories do know how to play tricks on us. I woke up one morning 5 years ago, smiled for I could not recall a particular part of my time in Bath: the color of Lukas's eyes.
They fade into the winds, one by one.
~
When it all happened so fast, and you are stuck in the broken time... a minute ago someone was still waiting for your return at a place called home, someone would nag you and complain about the you - who never ever remembered to bring an umbrella when the weather forecast predicted heavy rain, someone would care, pay attention to your red puffy eyes when you returned from school... now she is gone.
just... gone
and you know, every time it rains, you would want to rewind the time. You would pray for another chance. You would whisper her name so softly that she, wherever she is, would not be able to hear your longing. Three years down the road, you want her not to worry, you want her not to burden her heart with your confusion - some colors of this world faded the day she went away...
..."grandma"
And the you who now keep an umbrella in her bag, always, marched on in the pouring rain. You uttered her name and the echo of silence and solitude took your breath away...
Grandmother...
I am already down,
before the rain
