soliloquizing

  “Where are you? With whom?” my heart wonders, while wishing you were here with me. 独り言…   Advertisements

cacophonous

  I do not die. I saunter the same route over and over. I do not cry. I moisten the goblet and stay sober, worshipping the intangible, every aesthetic fiber. Like a sweater I once wore, I stretch until no more, thinking too much, trying as such. Then, I let go, shrinking to a ball,…

to have and to hold

I didn’t have a plan. I just hoped you’d be with me, for better, for worse. 久しぶりに、犬を連れて歩きながら泣いた。犬が止まったまま自分も立ち止まり、犬が匂いを嗅ぐ様子を見ながら、ふと、涙が浮かんで溢れた。 少し前はよくこうなった。動作や思考が止まると、自然と涙が流れてきていたので、忙しい仕事や邪魔してくれる人たちに助けられていた。生きている限り、そばにいる人をなくすこともある。ただ、ただ、生き続けるしかない。 最近、ようやく落ち着きが戻ったところだった。 心を暗くしたのは、朝起きて携帯の電源を入れた時に読んだ着信メッセージ。30年来の友人が亡くなった、と。    

paradise

Palm fronds swing in a tune of Utopia. The scent of gardenia croons in euphoria. And, blue meets blue far, far away. I live in paradise, with monophobia. I know I make some friends worry when I go dark and deep. They are good to me, and I am fortunate to have them in my…

kisses

The first kiss was special. The second kiss was subtle. The third kiss proved crucial. The fourth kiss echoed more. The fifth kiss dared to explore. The sixth kiss uttered a roar. The seventh kiss comforted. The eighth kiss confided. The ninth kiss felt legit. The tenth kiss was too ornate. The eleventh kiss, to…

like mother, like daughter

I am a daughter. I am a sister. I have been a friend. I have been a missus. I’ve never been a mother or called “Mommy” either. But, I am my mother. 母にずいぶん似てきたと言われる。 褒め言葉でもないような——— 。    

first love

  You loved hard, and you’re scarred. Now you know the colors of heart, – bright, vivid, dark and plain, you will find love again.   君が残してくれたもの。 君が教えてくれたこと。  

hemoglobin

The interior of my heart glistens crimson with a lust for life   For The Daily Post’s daily prompt: Interior

lonesome senryu – depleted

Satiated mind, eyes, olfaction, and taste bud on an empty heart. For Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Four

lonesome senryu – Thanksgiving

Forgotten and hiding From feasts and festivities. Thankful for wine stock. For Three Line Tales, Week Forty-Three  

elusive captor

A silent heart And stifled breath. My soul is tart And longing for death. That’s when I seek art To hide underneath.

lonesome senryu

  It is all my fault. I can not lean on others. So, I am alone. 甘え下手、自縄自縛で、 また、独り。