|Please take care of yourself|

Monsoon truly has started, hasn't it?

As I write these words I can hear the constant cries of cicadas,

But it seems even those are quieter than the silent cries of your wounded heart.

Monsoon truly has started, hasn't it? The season of tears, sadness and melancholy.

...

It's such a serene night, a little too serene perhaps,

The world around moves in a painfully slow pace,

Gentle night breeze is caressing everything in it's way as usual,

But somehow, the wind feels so empty, almost like it's mimicking you.

...

You who's always so reliable and unreachable,

I wish you'd lean on me a little more,

Just a little...just a little more...

Instead of suffocating like that all alone.

...

Yes, you are good at hiding, like you always say,

But no matter how good you get,

I'll still always know when your scars bleed;

So instead of hiding, why not let me help you apply the bandage?

...

I want to be the root that-

Firmly holds you from deep within the ground,

So that you can fearlessly grow towards the light;

And bloom alongside the spring.

...

In the fire ignited by them,

The anger burns and vanishes like the smoke,

Leaving you as grey ashes,

I know you are kind but please, never forgive them.

...

As I left that soulless of a house,

Unmatched to my energetic, "see you later!"

You greeted me with a hollow, "goodbye" with a smile so dead and fake,

It broke my heart to see you like that.

...

You stood there on your doorstep,

As I waited for the elevator to arrive,

A heavy melancholic air surrounded as both,

If only I could bring myself to embrace you...

I'm so sorry that I didn't.

...

(I love you)