Inspired by:
Song: エルフ
Artist: Ado
Lyrics by: てにをは
---
I run.
Not to arrive, but because sorrow is always faster than I expect.
It knows the shortcuts I take, knows the rhythm of my breath, the weight of my stride, the trembling pulse inside my throat.
So I run faster—leaving only the faintest tracks across earth cracked open by memory.
They say, "Chase the light."
The light that guides. That heals. That shows the way.
But they forget to warn me:
Light can blind.
It can burn the eyes and leave ghosts behind the eyelids—shadows so deep you forget they were ever cast by something warm.
Light isn't always salvation. Sometimes it's just glare, masking the edge of the cliff.
I loved her.
That was the first and last thing I ever truly believed.
But I was too slow.
Or maybe the world just spun too fast.
And in a world like this, love isn't enough.
Not enough to stop time.
Not enough to halt the cancer spreading like secrets through unopened letters.
She slept.
And I could never wake her again.
Her hand slipped from mine.
I can still feel the shape of her fingers on my skin.
Still warm, still here.
But empty.
Empty like a dead star with no myth to its name.
Unremembered.
Unwanted.
I try to forget.
Forget that I ever tried to remember.
Forget the sound of her laugh still echoing in the corridors of my ears.
But her goodbye hangs there—unfinished, like a prayer that never found its god.
Like a promise too beautiful to be the end.
"Adieu," she said.
And I never knew—was that love… or forgiveness?
I dance.
Beneath the spotlight of those who laugh at my breaking.
They don't know: even a branch can sway with grace as it sheds the snow.
I dance for her, for me, for the world that buried us both.
I scream.
Not so they'll hear—
But so I remember I'm still alive.
The twilight sky melts fireworks into puddles of fading color, shapes blur.
I look up and whisper,
"Where's my home?"
But there's no answer from a sky too high to touch.
Only the voice inside me.
The heartbeat that hasn't given up.
One… two… three…
Still mine, until the last.
My tears fall—like rain feeding a forest I once planted with her.
Now silent.
But still breathing.
This is homesick—but not for a house.
This is longing for time. For moments I'll never get back.
Immortality isn't a gift.
It's a list of everything you lose, stretched into eternity.
I am what remains.
Of a small war I fought alone.
An elf without a forest.
A man without a compass.
But still walking.
Because love isn't enough.
But love remains.
"Adieu," I whisper.
Maybe she hears.
I loved you.
And you?