Codesmith

Life, Or Something Like It
2004-02-16 18:48:21 (UTC)

Petals

It's 133pm. Very light snow. Sun is out. It's like a
weather you'd find at a funeral.

I've thought about the past few days. My talk of death,
undoubtedly a result of how intense I feel. That's just
how I am. Intense. Hypersensitive. And I don't love very
much. And when I do, it's intense. I'd give my life for
someone. But I wouldn't give my life for myself. Irony.

We're just Japanese cherry petals floating in the wind,
flooding the sky with a hazy, tempoary pink. Touching each
other now and then, the same way we touch each other's
lives. We fall to the ground and go back to whence we
came, only to come back again at some time we know not.
Sometimes, the petals will stick with each other the way
we stick to people most important in our lives. We can
barely control our path, our ultimate destination the end.
Is it our fate to just touch other people's lives? Is it
our fate to just appear for once a day, flood the sky, and
just come down? I know I am just one of these petals,
floating in the sky. Perhaps a bit more tarnished than the
rest, a little lighter than some. I don't know what will
happen to me for certain before I hit the ground. But I do
know that with what I have in me, I will always love
Melanie with. And as she drifts away from me now, it will
seem to me before I leave this world, that she was the
only one who ever touched me.

I don't see death when I see people anymore. I just see
petals.





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