if i could ride a bike ✓

bike

Callista,

     If only I have learned the mechanism of a bicycle, we could've wandered the cosmos hand in hand— of lands and seas we could no longer saunter together. Of stunning sunsets and fireflies, we could've chased.

     It was your tears of torment I used to expunge, now is the veil of scarlet ichor voided upon your face. You were beautiful, you were strong— merely, as I call your name, you responded no more. Your skin, pale, to a definite ivory it progressed. Suddenly, you slowly were drifting away along with my world caving in. You may have saw me as nothing, but without you, I indeed am.

     If it wasn't for my inability to speak, with no loath obtained, sincerity yet the only thing kept in company, I absolutely would've declare these all out to you. Yet in this world fallen into horrendous hands, was us, born different, lived different, bound to demise differently. Natheless, am I still obligated for this universe who gave both of us a chance to see ourselves through thick and thin. The similar universe who failed a part of its transcendent beings; you.

     I suppose, it is indeed one's grief over a loss. One foreseen, never primed to embark on. I suppose the bicycle isn't for me to learn, after all. Nor for you— for us two. Shalln't I forget thee evermore. 

   Apologies and farewell,

Jay.