My world is small; my tiny, miserable world. My kingdom of dirt. Staring at the stars as the west wind blows. Silence, save the flapping of my shirt. Tears roll off my face and disappear into the sky. I wonder where you are. What do you see? Do you see the same dreams as me?
You probably wouldn’t recognize me now. I look the same except for my vacant eyes. I helplessly grope about in the dark. Every day that passes you slip farther and farther away into the lands of myth. Sometimes I wonder if you even existed. I wonder if I even existed. I can't help but think these thoughts on days like this when the wind blows and stirs the barren asphodel fields like swirling snow.
I wonder if you existed and I despair. I watch my hope wither and die and crumble away into dust. Then it happens. In that pivotal moment when I’ve lost all hope. It’s so faint but it’s undeniably there and I pause for a second and close my eyes and breathe it in. For an instant. Like when I used to walk along the beach with my grandpa searching the sands for seashells, wonderful treasures, that have washed up on shore carried countless miles along the tide. An instant only, I turn around and I feel your beating heart beneath the crystal stars as I stare into space. An instant. Your scent, your blessedly sweet scent I once committed to memory as we’d sleep, my face buried in your hair. Carried countless miles along the world’s wind. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. An instant.
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