You can’t read my mind
And I can’t yours either
So why did we try to pretend
That we knew we were at fault
Toward each other
You could see me
Bleeding in front of you
And I knew you
Were growing numb and cold
In a time of desperation
We stopped using our voices
To cover and save our energies
We’ll never know if we ever had
A better tactic to follow
Moments flew by
Our present became the past
Even as they were on going
They had already turned into dusts
In our minds
Scooping up the left overs
We tried to sew up the seams
But we already had seen
What we couldn’t unsee
And so that was that
The ending was near
We were gone from the story
No rewriting or rewiring
And so this is the moment
The sound of truth
Can you hear it
It’s the silence
Speaking up for the first time
Talking to our souls
“Let it go
"I am here"
To avoid ending up drowning
In my own scream
A silent world
That silence, was a
Midpoint of brightness and calm quiet
The kind just right enough to not
Stir up worries in anyone
I had thought
That I'd won the ability to adjust it right
With all the time I had spent on it
But in reality
The real me was fading away gradually
Here, I see nothingness
The fact that even if I choose to cry out, I dissapear
And that the same is true, even if I choose
I couldn't find where I stood
And so I knocked on a door
Knock Knock Knock
"Who is it?"
I heard a voice from the other side
"Actually, I don't really know anymore..."
I quietly replied, and left
I left a piece of me, in a letter I had placed in front of the door
All I wrote in it was, "Take care of yourself"
And on the photo I enclosed along with the letter in the envelope
Was an X mark
Right over my face
Who am I?
In the end, nobody knows
And that is
The girl knew.
That nothing could escape its end.
How the courteous people,
showering each other with nice greetings,
and having the most appropriate smiles,
were indeed sad,
The girl knew.
"Oh, you're from the other..."
She slowly bowed.
She bowed neatly, and with quite an effort.
But, whether she did it with quite an effort or not,
did not have an impact on its meaninglessness.
The reason why she did it with quite an effort,
was because it was demanded of her,
and not because she needed it to be that.
There was an invisible pressure lurking.
But, even the expression, "invisible" was, yet again,
not suitable for this particular situation.
Well, there wasn't a form. That was true.
But only because it was ever-changing.
Yet, you did get a sense that it could be seen somehow.
In people's smiles. In the tension of the backs.
And in the hesitation, carried through the movements.
In the end, everybody knew.
"Oh, hi there."
That sadness was present in the midst of all the interactions.
Not one person was good at hiding it,
but everyone was good at pretending to not notice.
So, it worked, in the end.
It was just all inescapable.
So the girl muttered.
"Well, that's that..."
And she started to walk on the road paved perfectly straight.
Either way, she knew.
Organization, meant nothing,
Poems in Japanese and English