All the way up to the place that keeps calling me. I can still hear the calls, distantly. But I cannot force my body to move and to obey the call. The canyon is too big. The bridge is too small. My heart is too severely damaged. If I could just go up there. And look down on everything that went wrong. To prevent myself from sinking into another sludge basin. ‘Cause who will drag me out? No one. I need protection. Or does everyone need protection against me?
The calls are everywhere and everyday. I want to obey, I promised, but sometimes I am tired and I just cannot concentrate. The flow of words is pushing and wants to spread it wings. So want I. Those who have wings fly their dreams. I have grown wings, beautiful white feathered angel wings. But I still cannot fly. They ruin my wings by robbing me from my innocence. They burn them by forcing me back into the past I want to forget. They rip my wings by expecting me to be anything I do not want to be. Bye bye wings.
Sweet calls. Magnificent dreams. Ugly occurrences. Feeling sorry, nearly guilty, but I have to keep telling myself I am not the one to blame. Taking responsibility is a grown-ups issue. I am only listening to what my heart tells me. Right now it is quite silent. A heavy, slowly beating lump within my chest. Do not exaggerate. Remain calm and imagine soothing rays of sunlight.
If I could just go up there and forget. Start all over again. Turn the feeding the lack of experience into a lack of experience with sweet, profound longing. If I could empty my head. And fix my heart. Right now it is paralysed and I refuse to wake it up before the whispering pain has gone. For it is only very seldom a sparkle of hope touches my soul and revives the sweet urge to surrender to the call of life.
Just to write. To get rid of bad thoughts, I guess. But writing makes me feel relieved. No matter what I write about. Who am I kidding when I tell you I had a rough night on December 12th 2006, I woke up with someone next to me I could not remember on September 17th 2007, I met and lost the love of my life in spring 2001 and my first kiss was so bad I immediately stopped seeing the guy (or girl, I can’t remember…)? Would you believe me if I told you I enjoy looking into your blue-green eyes, and laying my head down on your shoulder, and crying while I tell you all those things I have never told someone before? Will you swallow me if you’re asked to do so? And will you stop hating me if I asked you to do so?
Little smiles within my chest. I see the sun shine in your eyes and I hear the birds` whistles chase away your haunting screams. If I can get you out of my head, to make some room for sane thoughts… Is it too much? Because somewhere between all the looking-backs and miserable feelings, there is a girl with a friendly smile who likes to write just to write. And she refuses to write anymore words on the people who hurt her.
My wings feel heavy, but comfortable, they are partly healed, but capable of carrying me. I will obey the calls. And fly away with or without telling you idiot(s) which of the above is truth or false.