she taught me, people die twice: first is when their physical presence is no longer felt, second is when their memory tends to slip away.
no matter how frequent she tell me she was a deeply, unhappy person, i knew she was made up of differently positive charged particles; and that her energy cannot be compared to anybody else's. because how could she touch my fingers and already electrify me with thousands of pixie sparks, with love and passion burning althrough out my body like staccato bursts? she is a matter, indeed. apart from she matters the most to me; she is the solidification of downpours and hurricanes wreaking little havocs in my heart, she is the only matter that liquifies the lumps in my throat and let if flood over my eyes, and grasping to her is the only air i am able to breathe in between of my smoke-filled lips. people say they always loved alaska young, and it was hard not to, because i, myself, fell in love with her too. i always trace the back of my head and create a memory lane there; this girl deserves not to be forgotten.
she was the one to say our story was about to be continued. and i held unto her promise. but she was the one who chose to slip away. and i took part of the fault for letting her go. she chose to escape the world - the end of her labyrinth. and i chose to suffer in it. she was alaska young. and i was a coward for not keeping her with me. now she is gone, all with the dasies she used to tuck behind her ears, all with the chills of drinking her strawberry hills, and all like an ash from the smoke in the wind.
i may no longer have her near me but she will never die in my memory - atleast not yet today, not yet tomorrow, not yet ten years from now. because how could you ever forget the person that made you different from the non-thrilling entity you were before?
there will be no single day i wouldn't ever think of her. she lives in me. i live by her promise. i will always love alaska young, my crooked neighbor,
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵.