I don’t understand why you left me here without saying goodbye.

 

You’re gone forever and all I can do is gaze upon the grey skies that bear your name. Those grey skies mock me, cast upon my soul a shadow so deep that not even a black hole could suffocate the darkness within. It’s like you single-handedly stole all the light I had carefully collected inside myself the moment you decided to walk away.

 

The grey streets, the grey subway station, the grey mist that hangs in the air, it is all lifeless, it is all gloomy, it is all calm. I want nothing more than to tear myself apart upon the bland concrete. Let my soul erupt and ignite the melancholy streets with sooty black and sapphire blue and burning red. Watch the world ripple into colour, my grief breaking free from its prison, the raging spirit I once buried now emerging from the catacombs. I wish this world, in its blandness, in its aching familiarity, could just stop for once on the railway tracks of life and watch me explode.

 

The twisted emotions grapple in their furnace, crackling anger and bubbling resentment swirling amidst the floating sorrow and fluttering pain. I feel the heat rising inside me, the deadly concoction ready to burst. The fiery glow blazes in the pit of my stomach.

 

And then–

 

drip.

 

A cold droplet of rain sizzles against my burning skin

 

drip.

 

The water feels like ice against the warmth of my cheek

 

drip.

 

The gentle rain pulls me back down. The last of the sparks extinguish. I pull out my umbrella and brush off your gravestone one final time before I turn away.

 

drip. drip. drip.

 

The fire is gone, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes in my chest, the smoke tearing at my throat.

 

drip.

 

The sky is crying and so am I.


Illustrator: Colleen Chang