I used to take the rolling mountains of my home for granted.
I used to take the howl of a lone wolf a sign of just a myth that I dared to shake my head at.
We used to share our love through secret, smiling quietly between each other.
When the sky had went dark and thunder reigned our land,
we were hushed, and I couldn't handle the everlasting pain that came from it.
You always told me to run at the right moment.
Now, I'm not sure if I did the right thing, to run at YOUR right moment.
You had always took your sister's death hard, no matter what came out of your mouth.
I think you loved her more than me.
But when they came, they were like parasites from another world, piling up on what kept me alive.
They stole lives.
They haunted dreams.
They frolicked in a world of doom.
I think that I always knew that you were defiant.
A raging fire that could not be washed away by my tears of blood.
You wove a web of secrets that I could not untangle.
You wanted to be my Superman, when all I wanted was for you to be my lover.
I forget that I wear a ring now.
And I wear my hair in mossy tresses that seem to be complicated than any piece of fabric you wove.
Because your last breath was what gave me a new life.
But that was the last glimpse of your face I'd ever see.
And you'll never be there to see me in America.
You bit the apple too soon.
And left me in a unknown world.
They call it liberty.
I call it a cage.
Because to be free means to have an abundance of what you want.
To experience feelings that gush over you like cold, icy water.
I think love was one of them.
But too elusive from me.
I capture simple pictures of beauty.
But the thing I desire most abundantly when I go to bed is a picture of you.
An abundance of them to swallow me whole.