1. 君の手で切り裂いて 遠い日の記憶を

Romaji: kimi no te de kirisaite tōi hi no kioku o
Nuance: “With your hands, rip open the memories from long ago.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
This isn’t a gentle “I want to forget.” Kirisaite (“slash/rip apart”) makes memory physical—like flesh. The line frames pain as something lodged inside the body, and the speaker begs the beloved to be the one who ends it, even if it hurts.

The imperative form intensifies the self-punishing mindset: If you hurt me, it might be easier than living with what I did.

2. 悲しみの息の根を止めてくれよ

Romaji: kanashimi no iki no ne o tomete kure yo
Nuance: “Stop my sorrow completely.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
Iki no ne o tomeru literally means “to stop someone’s breath at the root”—a phrase used for ending life, i.e., finishing something absolutely. Pointing that expression at “sorrow” turns sadness into a creature that keeps breathing, keeps surviving.

So the line isn’t “I’m sad.” It’s: my sorrow is alive, and I need it ended.

3. そして一番高い所で置き去りにして優しさから遠ざけて

Romaji: soshite ichiban takai tokoro de okizari ni shite yasashisa kara tōzakete
Nuance: “Leave me behind at the highest place—push me away from kindness.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
The twist is brutal: kindness becomes the thing the speaker wants to flee. When someone is drowning in regret, being scolded can feel easier than being treated gently—because gentleness makes the guilt sharper.

“Highest place” adds emotional geometry: physical distance becomes psychological severance. It reads like choosing isolation as punishment.

4. 羽が欲しいとは言わないさ せめて宙に舞うメリッサの葉になりたい

Romaji: hane ga hoshii to wa iwanai sa semete chū ni mau merissa no ha ni naritai
Nuance: “I’m not asking for wings—just let me be a Melissa leaf drifting in the air.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
This is a wish that shrinks—painfully. Wings would mean agency, flight by one’s own power. A leaf means being carried by wind. Yet even that is enough: anything to lift off the ground, away from crawling reality.

And it matters that it’s not “any leaf,” but a Melissa leaf. Because “Melissa” evokes healing (lemon balm’s soothing image), the line contains a faint hope: if the speaker can’t become someone who protects, then at least become something that soothes—not a presence that wounds.

5. 君の手で鍵をかけて ためらいなどないだろ

Romaji: kimi no te de kagi o kakete tamerai nado nai daro
Nuance: “Lock it with your hands—you won’t hesitate, right?”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
…daro isn’t simple certainty; it pressures the other person—you agree, don’t you? It tests the beloved while issuing an order.

The line pushes toward a final sealing-off, almost asking the other to shut the door forever as an act of judgment.

6. 救いのない魂は流されて消えゆく

Romaji: sukui no nai tamashii wa nagasarete kieyuku
Nuance: “A soul with no salvation gets swept away and disappears.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
Nagasarete (“washed away / carried off”) is passive—no will, no resistance. It suggests being taken by the world’s current. Then sukui no nai (“without salvation”) lands like a cold verdict.

It can read like self-erasure: I’m the kind of soul that should simply vanish—so don’t feel sorry for me.

7. 今 月が満ちる夜を生み出すのさ

Romaji: ima tsuki ga michiru yoru o umidasu no sa
Nuance: “Now—I’ll create a night when the moon is full.”

🗣 Japanese-specific point:
In Japanese poetic imagery, the moon’s waxing and waning often connects to cycles of life and death, return and departure, the unseen world and lingering souls. Here, the moon becomes a destination-like symbol: if the speaker ends, they can still become a small light that reaches the one they love.

The verb umidasu (“to bring forth / give birth to”) is striking—this isn’t mere resignation. It’s the will to generate one last kind of brightness out of darkness.

🎤 Emotional Summary

“Melissa” runs on forward motion, but its heart is heavy: memory that won’t stop hurting, sorrow that won’t stop breathing, kindness that burns more than punishment. The speaker begs for an end—not only to pain, but to the self that can’t escape guilt.

And yet, the song doesn’t end with emptiness. It reaches for a role that remains: drifting like a Melissa leaf, becoming something that heals rather than harms; shining, even briefly, under a full moon.

That’s why the song lingers—because it doesn’t offer easy salvation. It offers a fierce, final kind of light.