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Literature Text
It was weird. Your wood-carved symmetrical face is faded marker that I could barely make out in my mind. Your dulcet rumble of your voice escapes me. It was once a melody I used to hear on my stereo. Now the lyrics are an utterly faint memory. It was weird to know that, no lie. Those days where you were there seems like a reverie when it was once a verdant reality. Everyday I wake up as if nothing happened and I say to you, "Good morning." Then I remember that I say this to the wall because you do not exist in this world. Not anymore.
I don't know you at all.
Somehow, I never forgot how much I've changed when you were there. There was no one but you to come to when no one gave a damn about my problems. You understood me as if you could read my mind. Even my biggest flaws are positive things of me. You say how they were your favorite things about me. For the first time, I never thought I'd appreciate more things that come out of life. I have opened to bigger ideas. I learned to have better relationships with friends and family. Suddenly, my life had a vibrant purpose.
So I look at you now—a cold, hard, polished stone—sitting peacefully under the sun standing alone and resting alone. It was weird. You are not here anymore. You don't exist, yet when I touch your name, you are standing right in front of me. When you are, I remember you clearly.
One day, I woke up again. I whispered tiredly, "Good morning."
The wall whispered back to me, "Good morning. Missed you."
I don't know you at all.
Somehow, I never forgot how much I've changed when you were there. There was no one but you to come to when no one gave a damn about my problems. You understood me as if you could read my mind. Even my biggest flaws are positive things of me. You say how they were your favorite things about me. For the first time, I never thought I'd appreciate more things that come out of life. I have opened to bigger ideas. I learned to have better relationships with friends and family. Suddenly, my life had a vibrant purpose.
So I look at you now—a cold, hard, polished stone—sitting peacefully under the sun standing alone and resting alone. It was weird. You are not here anymore. You don't exist, yet when I touch your name, you are standing right in front of me. When you are, I remember you clearly.
One day, I woke up again. I whispered tiredly, "Good morning."
The wall whispered back to me, "Good morning. Missed you."
Another old piece I found somewhere and edited it a bit 
Reminds me of how we would feel sometimes when we lose someone
Reminds me of how we would feel sometimes when we lose someone
© 2010 - 2024 FallenUmbrella
Comments22
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This is really nice. Powerful, moving, and full of emotion. I love that. The imagery is really good as well.
The only thing i'd suggest is to keep the tenses the same!
The only thing i'd suggest is to keep the tenses the same!