This is “The End of My Imperfection” Chapter 2

…continuation of Chapter 1.

Chapter II

The Death of Macy Louie.

Dark luminous clouds hide the smiles of stars in the infinite sky and I’m half way up to the bottom of my next favorite friend – whiskey. Alcohol and cigarette seems to occupy my consciousness and done an absolutely fantastic job in healing my weary heart. They give me pleasure without any complain or exchange. They’re simply killing me softly.

The woman that came to me at the park bench has no name. She just simply asked me, “Why are you so sad?” possibly she just wondered why I’m crying all alone amidst the cheerfulness of the surroundings and the crowd.

It was the 20th of June 2000, the day I almost died. I gave up the sense of living that morning and I can no longer find the reason why. I think it was the sadness. I felt so empty like a stone in the middle of wilderness. I should have forgotten the reasons of my remorseful and perfected the sense of being happy. But somewhere in the back of my mind, the thoughts of her still linger and I can fell the screaming infidelities of the heart. I should have forgotten her smile that gives me mornings and the scent of lavender made in heaven. She was my life… my universe.

Macy Louie was everything to me and she left that day. She went to the place where tears are forbidden and happiness is the only feeling. I think of her every time the sun goes down because it’s out moment together. It’s our time in this weary world. The bench at the park was our place where we sung thousand melodies of love and devotion to each other.

I wrote 110 poems for her, from the day we met and the day she closed her eyes. I was going to propose a marriage to her that day but life seems to be cruel and full of surprises. This is the poem I wrote a week before she died of cancer…

Unconscious Confession of the Heart

I dream a home in your smiles,
With love songs in lyre and rhyme,
Divine whispers speak in miles,
Of lullabies waiting in time.

I dream of you in twilight,
Where everything is ashen,
By your hair as dark as night,
Smells like flowers from heaven.

I dream of my tomorrows,
Yearning in the unquiet sky,
But I’m safe in your pillows,
No more lies nor tears to cry.

I dream days of happiness,
Your arms and dimples alone,
Left me shiver in gladness,
In my dreams I simply own.

This is nothing but dreaming,
My heart wishes listening,
Mere words of hardly spoken,
That dream is a pray to heaven.

Go to Chapter 3….

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