Only

You look at me. And what do you see?

You see what you want to see. You create the image that you want to create. You’ve already made up your mind about me.

And when I suddenly speak up, you’re surprised because you thought I could only nod my head politely with agreement.

You’re surprised when I climb a mountain because the look on my face clearly indicated that I’d been lost in woods.

And you’re shocked when I cover my hands with dirt because you thought the only thing I could do was to put my lipstick on.

I’ve given everything to the world, not expecting anything in return, only to become a person that you cannot see.

How many years have I been here? Where have I been before? How did they find me, if I’d been covered up by snow?

I only grow on the land that I’ve been allied to. When you pull me out, there is nothing to quench my thirst. I wither.

wise are the witches

Why didn’t you kiss me?

Once again, she went for a long walk, wanting to think things through, wanting to run away from everything she felt. But walking wasn’t helping anymore. There were questions in her head she wouldn’t ever get rid off.

How do you know that your decisions are right? You shake your hand with a person who has been a stranger to you, yet you two have everything in common. Waiting for them to speak up first, you let them go. Why don’t you speak up first?

Standing on a hill and looking at a town that used to be his, she can’t help but think about the only man she fell in love with. It’s been so many years and she still remembered his smile.

‘Why didn’t you kiss me?’ she asked, staring down the valley, knowing he must be somewhere, hoping he hears her words.

Would have her life been easier, if he’d kissed her? Would have she been less confused, if he’d kissed her? Would have she been happier, if he’d kissed her? Would have anything changed, if he’d kissed her?

‘Why didn’t he kiss me?’ she asked again, but there was no answer. Only the wind blew in her face, hurting her skin, throwing leaves at he feet.

letters: Father

You’ve never been in my life, so don’t expect me to suddenly want you to be here.
Tell me again what you are for me, and I’ll open this book in which there’s no word about you.
Forgive me, but I don’t feel that I’m losing something.

© W. Donovan