I want to be the wind. I want to be ripped apart as I glide against the mountain peeks. I want to be united. I want to be fast and dangerous, and soft and delicate. I want to be feared and loved. I want to watch my world grow old.
I want to be real. Want to feel the ground beneath these tired feet, want to feel the rain upon my skin - I want to breathe. Lost in this world of beauty and lies, I’ve lost myself - lost myself so completely. How am I to survive? These promises everyone drops, like pearls in an endless ocean, they’re burning up my skin - and I can barely stand.
I am a film negative.
The skeleton of a memory, desperate to be remembered. Tucked away from the “just in case” and buried below notes from loved ones, stashed from books on the bottom shelf.
I am waiting.
When I pass couples in the park, lying together amidst the swirl of green and yellow in the grass and leaves, I drop my eyes to the dull grey of the walkway, unable to look happiness in the eye. A cliché arrow through the heart—the pain of knowing that our path never diverged from the grey, never ventured into precious emeralds and glittering gold, treasures gained from daring to take that step off the sidewalk. We played it safe, and now I cannot see beyond this grey world you’ve left me in.
My heart is eager to map out the world, but lacks the means. It stretches itself too thin across the Great Plains, and cuts itself atop the jagged Rockies. It freezes against the snowy winds in the Arctic, and burns in the arid land of the Sahara. It gets lost down cobbled Paris streets, and loses its footing at the Great Wall. It drowns on the ocean floor. It searches for a promised land that won’t ever be found; it searches for home.
No matter how many coins you toss in the fountain, how many wishes you make at 11:11, or how many fingers you cross, if it’s not meant to be, then it won’t happen.
Have you ever thought about how many people think about you? Its so bizarre. Imagine someone, out of the blue, thinking of your face. Something happens; they remember you. Your favourite song, how you dress, the way you talk, the look in your eyes when you are happy. They remember that about you even if you haven’t seen each other in years. Everything in life is a reminder of a person, a place, a moment. You may think you’ve forgotten, but you haven’t.
Look’s like i died and no one cares