The wait for the words that may never come remains. Words and facts forever bind, as true as anything else can be.
Hope falls with me, scratching its knee. Loneliness by our side, padding our heads, gently pushing our backs. Routine whispering wild stories of feelings and thoughts in our ears, so foreign, so close.
A liar feeling guilt, taking the option of becoming what she never expected to be; wrestling lust, fighting love, numbing the heart, ignoring her mind… Miserably losing at it all.
An enthusiastic child that believes his quest has come to an end; feeling it all right in the moment, idealizing possibilities only he can see.
A life companion, another broken beauty that chooses to be distant to an actual piece of himself; knowing nothing at all, forever being on someone else’s mind and heart.
A shy dog that retreats and does not say goodbye; feeling the bond, not showing a thing.
How probable is it to be the only soul wired like this? Feel with me, stay by my side; so close, look at me, inside and out.
My lines have gone to a wild land that I do not know. No one does. They have been gone for months, for a lifetime.
Those words that hug each other forming multicolor lines that have hidden under the velvet flower vase, inside the brown treasure box, and beside the imperfectly peeled oranges.
The lines have crossed my face instead of my fingers, in a period of time where growing up was not an option. Though, stubborn child I still am, with a wronged soft heart and a sharp mouth. A child that could never adapt quite well, no matter where. A child who does not understand life and all it takes. A child that feels too much for her own sake.
They -my lines- have gone to find what they know I am still looking for. It fails to come to me to finally figure out if it exists at all. Oh, lines! You are in my mind, across my heart, sailing away. Away, somewhere, away, disguised as prayers made of light and inaudible songs. You have kept away while I selfishly calm down my heart, treat it well, keep the doubts at bay.
Cursed be the wait and the bad earthly faith that touches the great souls that only good deserve.
Take up arms. A new made up war that was planned long time ago by a bunch of brain cells.
Take up arms. In defense of liberty. In defense of profit. In defense of peace. What is real?
Take up arms. The location was unknown until the day that beheld a revelation had come.
Take up arms. Face the unknown that makes you worry and rant; and calls for teary eyes.
Take up arms. Make plans. Make distances insignificant. Make time spread, as ductile steel.
Take up arms. You bear the unbearable. Wicked pain. You might faint, but strong you remain.
Take up arms. Today, tonight. Tomorrow. I share with you my soul if yours gets stumbled upon.
Only real wars are worth the fight. The only real wars are those from the heart.