Pseudonym

You told me you will never ever write another word in your life.

As I gazed into the nothingness, I couldnt but see the beauty of it all. 
It reflected the flaws of the dear moon.
It mirrored the cracks on earth.
It showed the tears and the tears of my face.
It illuminated the broken love of life.
It lamented.
There were lost dreams. Lost hopes. 
Thousand cuts. 
Most of all the child. That child we made. 
And I killed.

As I started to read this book, the first word, the first paragraph- I knew you wrote it. From the first word. From the first para. I just could feel you all around me. And in me.

In my own naive view of our lives, I assumed you will never ever write another word in your life. After many years of wisdom post that phase in life, I realized that you mentioned it to me. As a context. Not life as a whole.

You were a charming rascal who could weave your way through words.