People like us, I don't think we really understand the concept of mercy. We pray that someday someone will come into our lives like a ray of light, here to cleanse us of our sins. The person who can tame us, contain us, envelop and grow with us. More than anything we are hungry for this deliverance.
Our bodies serve as the temples to our grand Egos. Lush fruit and wine are laid out in extravagant displays in a world made of velvet and gold. But we only exists here as ghosts. We keep those doors locked, the key buried so deep in our hearts to get it might also mean killing us.
I want to believe it's worth dieing for. A single moment in time when you really know you're not alone.
But not all of us want to believe anything.
-A
We're surrounded by people
ReplyDeleteWho have placed mask after mask upon themselves
Like several layers of dirt
We all know it
But we still function in it
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It is cowardice.
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Because the truth can make change. And stagnancy is predictable.
If you were to tell everyone what you truly believe, who knows who would stay and who would go
What might they say about you? What might they think?
And yet, without them knowing you...
They cannot Love you
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Connection is born of Truth and Acceptance
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Yet. Rejection is born of Truth and Intolerance
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If you never speak your truth...
...You will never be rejected.
...And you will never be accepted.
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However, what is worse than rejection
Is being born with the inability to have a Mask.
Whether because your life is not your own
Or because you just weren't born with the same fear as others
Because you value connection, beyond faceless company
Because you value your heart, over your imagery...
And no one else is brave enough to see beautiful things with you
Because they're too afraid of themselves.
It’s unfortunate to realize, for the both of us, that no one can cleanse us of our sins. We are shameless in our actions, we do as we desire because we don’t know any better.
ReplyDeleteOur bond comes from this, our actions and inactions. We want the same things. We raised ourselves, surrounded ourselves by people who lead us to desire all of the natural world to be ours.
We want to grasp everything, all the bits of the world. We want to understand everything, to know it all. We want fingers scratching over our skin, tongues running over our lips, thighs against thighs and hands covering ours.
And we want it forever.
When we let someone in, someone understand a fraction of ourselves we cover up something else. We are old houses with secrets; we display the beauty of ourselves. Our velvety exterior, the gold leafed picture frames and we display grand mirrors so that others believe we’re relating to them. But they just see themselves. They see what they want.
People that can uncover us are rare, but they exist. They come in and trash our homes, uncover all the furniture, jump in the beds, make all the picture frames crooked. Sometimes they’ll break things, old antique vases that have been long crafted, delicately articulated and painted grandfather clocks.
And then they leave.
But we don’t shop at Ikea. We aren’t generic, not in any sense of the word. Everything inside of us had been forged with our own hands. No one told us how to discover and recover events.
So, three cheers for being alone, because it’s all we have.
And I think I’m okay with that.