I keep dying everyday,
or the pieces of the
man I was, rather.

With each day that passes,
old parts of me also
fade into oblivion.

I remember how much
I loved her.
I loved her, like how the clouds
clung to the sky.
I loved her, like how the stars
burned in the dark of night.

I also remember being
afraid, but hopeful.

I was afraid of who I will
become, when all of who I was
has passed.

But I was hopeful that
I will be free, at last.
For the man that I was,
knew not how not to love her.