In the end, it is your heart that will guide the knife to your throat.
Perhaps for all our worries about our individual existence, we are indeed nothing more than one among many.
A single artery of a heart, pulsing and throbbing on impulses from our milieu.
The truth is right before you, they say, but they’ll never understand.
You do not want to see. You do not want to know. You don’t ask. You don’t doubt.
You close your eyes, and believe.
Whatever we did, we did for power.
Money. Love. Beauty. Respect. Family.
Power to control, to seduce, to create, to morph.
If my name is on the page, if my name is scrawled on some distant pillar, I can’t disappear.
I was here.
It was just another day.
I didn’t know you and you didn’t know me.
We were two ships passing in the night, on different paths in the same waters.
But in that fraction of a second, we were as close as two people could ever be.
There is a castle I live in, with glass walls that kiss the sky.
I was never meant to be unshackled.