If I could travel back in time
I will travel back to Yesterday,
To travel the time where I left it before,
A price I deserve to pay
And I could make & erase the fade I made
Yet it's like the same
As a Fade of simplicity & mistake of kindness
I had clear them for you now.
I have found myself emerges everytime
before you found out any of this
Before we had even become good friends,
So you have never shed my tear.
I will travel back the time
To find a new world to find me a new time
Which I left it back today
And make the yesterday as a beauty of infinite
As To Travel a moment for the time
where I will see you once again....
                                                                                                 - Chirayu.

Have you ever given this a thought?
Who will mourn your death?
Your better half?
Your loved ones?
Your friends?
Sad to say...
Life doesn't come to an end when you die
The moment your breathing stops
The clock ticks still
The wind blows as usual
The sun still shines
Life continues
Never stopping
Never ending
At the funeral
Your closed friends cry
Your family breaks down
Temporarily grieving
They wear black
They visit your grave
Your name may linger in their hearts
But as they start to laugh again
You became a memory
The world continues
Life moves on....

Ghost Boy, Ghost Boy.
I call him that because there's absolutely no way he's human.
He wore all black.
He looked me in the eye once, and at the tip of his shoes the rest of the time. My soul was up for grabs. I don't think he was interested.
Ghost boy, Ghost boy.
Walking in harmony with my heartbeat.
I think of your pierced ears and vinyl eyes.
Composed. How do you do that?
I was your opposite, Ghost boy.
Ying to yang.
I wore all white and couldn't hear your heartbeat.
I was too occupied with my thoughts.
Maybe he'll get tired of me or maybe i'm wearing to much perfume.
I looked at the stars and we didn't talk.
Ghost boy, Ghost boy, my soul was up for grabs that night,
but my heart and my brain were too loud and too heavy.

I see you:
you're dreaming.

about what trees are you hanging?
over what seas are you flying?

why are your eyes so gracefully closed?
how does your lips press each other?

what music sounds inside your heart?
is it the same music we listen to the same moment?

right here,
on the aeroplane / over the sea

I know we are
I know you'll smile

I know your hair dancing to the wind
I know your crossed hands

I know the smell before your rain,
the one you left in stars

I know the music of your silence
or absence of life

I know your sleep
and even there, oh,

I guess I love you even more
than I have ever loved myself

Tell about the last time someone said you were better off dead,
or about that kiss that went too far,
when you were a child and how the sunlight doesn't feel like it use to against your skin,
tell me how you prayed to the ocean to take you

Tell me about the last person to break your heart,
and how they slaughtered every delicate flower in the meadow of your mind,
tell me about how they'll be the last person to break your heart

and how tsunamis fall from sky,
like rain,
every time you hear that name

and how you didn't know you could fall in love
with the space between stars.

A long long time ago
Before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.
He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..
He was a bit of a pacifist
live and let live was his way.
Instead he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
on his belly lay on the planes belly.

At the airbase in the UK he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.
When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a darkroom by hand
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship
and found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him
and she accepted.
when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.
After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.
I found grandmas note that was
pinned on the darkroom door
she passed a way a few weeks ago.
And I was moved to tell this story.
Follow the light Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands hes waiting for you.