"And then there was tragedy and death in her eyes
and she told me with a broken smile
that she never felt more alive."
I will travel all over the world
and cross continents and swim oceans
and leave bits and pieces of myself
scribbled on walls, carved on wood,
bitten into old apple cores, and
stained as teardrops on paper.
I will meet many people
and dance and laugh and cry with them
and taste their exotic flavours
and immerse myself in cultures
way beyond my comprehension.
I will leave you almost as quickly as I arrived
and we will not miss each other
but only think fondly of the memories that once were
and always will be.
Hollow, hollow- o sweet sorrow.
I'll dwell with you, dear friend,
and slowly understand why it never pains me when others leave.
Sometimes I think that I am not meant to experience,
but maybe merely to observe.