It was my mere presence that left you - just my presence, never my song. Perhaps you were lost, searching for a hand to lead you out of the labyrinth you put yourself in. I could have been the one, but I could not. How can I? I was in that labyrinth as well, and you would only go halfway to nowhere if I held your hand, in the awkwardness of everything. It was the time when all there was left for me to see was a mist of perplexity.
There were things that I could not escape from. My fate was clear. One day I’d leave; my presence would only taint the ground you stand on; one day the world will see that this was not where I should belong.
I know, as I can feel through the regale of your music and your words, I am loved. But I had to leave. The nightfall had come at last, it became the twilight of this awkwardness. I left you my song, I left you my light. Nonetheless, your sight has dimmed. When the drums of solitude began to cadence with the fading of the music you played, everything ended.
But you should not cease to listen to the beat, for when daybreak comes, your music shall be heard again, the drums of hope remain.
I, too, now understand what I once cannot. You’ve loved my presence from the very start of the maze. Just my presence. You did not hear my song.
You will understand, my “disperse” is your “revive”. And when you find it within you, you know you are loved.
© Maxinne Marie
March 17, 2008. 12:00 AM.