I’ve been dreaming of flying

I’m standing here, on the firm ground
reaching out so high
I’ve been dreaming of flying
to the skies
where I can see my thoughts
where I can unite with myself.
Yet, I’m standing here
chained like a horse
running round and round
with my neat shoes on
I step into puddles
wanting them to be mirrors.

Where do I go
with my broken armor
so indifferent
still longing for something
that has never been here.

born in rain
streaming down my face
drawn in a fantasy
creating unreal realms
revealed in sadness
blackening the skies
i cannot hold a single sphere
dig a hole in the ground
to pour my soul in

Born in rain
I can only become water again.

I need a hug

It’s getting cold. You wake up in the morning and get out of the bed with your cold feet you head to the window. You touch the cold glass trying to touch the sun, rising in the distance. Cold.

The weather has nothing to do with the cold that I carry in myself, though. It’s always been here. Never goes away. Never disappears. Like crystals of ice covering my skin. Why am I so cold?

You just need a little bit of fire, my dear, you would think. But I walked through the fire many times and never felt a stroke of warmth. My body’s weak. Starving. Barely breathing. Vanishing.

I need a hug. Where are you? Asking the only person who could hug me. You know no one else can do it. Do not touch me. Do not come any closer. How sad is that? Always in the arms of strangers.

What did you do to me? Never needed this. Touching, hugging, talking. Always fine on my own. What did you do to me? I picked the fruit from the tree, deep red, and I ate it forgetting how bitter it had been.

Maybe the Mother was right.
Maybe I shouldn’t be on my own, after all.