Sometimes I wish, other times I hope, and at times I just whisper. I whisper wishful things, sad things, then all the things that cross my mind 'cause I have the certainty that who will have the power to listen, will. What if they don't? Then they won't see.
I used to have many friends and all of them where made of silver and roses and bullets and rain, but then they vanished and harsh enemies took their place. Sorrow and hurt, greed and anger made their way through the slippery place I used to call a soul, and then I crashed again like I do at times when I can't deal with certain things anymore. I came here in complete ruins, thought I could make it alive tho. And I did. I'm still breathing, I still walk these streets and can still smell the wretched frost from the morning air and filthy smog on my way home at night. It should be a pretty hard evidence that I'm still alive.
I used to have burning coals in my eyes and flames rising from my hands, I used to make my way through society always laughing at others and keeping things to myself. I still do, y'know.
Chocolate brown eyes with infinite heat are keepers of a compact journal filled with life experiences. 2010, one number, could define them all. T'was my year, it was my quick death and my slow and painful rebirth, almost. The same eyes contain now snowflakes, each day a different shape, each day a different size, but always made out of the same rain that used to pour months ago, stormy weather, blistering cold in immeasurable quantities, endured until it stopped being a burden and started being an advantage again.
You tried to touch the snow, try to enter the deep darkness with no fear as a core, and are still trying, fact that makes me happy in a way and keeps me in guard in another. Stay by my side, don't give up, I'm much more than I can show and if you're happy with only this, you might want to consider gaining a new level of happiness. It's all brand new in the shallow part, same old going deeper, but better anyway.
I can taste the raw drops of pure delight falling from the sky, I can feel them freezing before they touch the skin of my cheek, my nose can sense the aroma of fresh coffee in the middle of the night and my hands can catch the sensation of wisdom you had when you decided to take that step and come home. Held me tight and promised me you would never make me cry, isn't it an easy promise to keep? Yes it is. Yes it is...
Keep me healthy and sane, don't let me fall off my feet, make the land I step on never shiver away.
Slivers of metal guns choke me when I dream every night a different dream with the same idea: of catching a breath of fresh air from its flight across the distant memories of my unwanted gathered songs, all coiled somewhere deep into echoes that reach out. All my songs are good songs, no song is better than the other.
And maybe one day I'll stand up to my songs, one day I'll tell them otherwise and play them as they should be played; they don't bother existing without the winds that brought them to me, don't bother playing for someone else.
How can I ever repay you? How can I ever tell you 'thank you' for opening my eyes and being one step ahead? I'll wish you all the best and the same songs you played to me, I'm quite sure you'll enjoy them, and when you listen to them remember me as a dear friend, a lost memory and a true heart to have relied on when you needed, a medicine to ease the pain. You'll know when you'll hear me calling out such as a mermaid calls its seamen in the foggy darkness, you'll tell that it's me, don't worry. Just follow the song, you'll be free then.
"So thank you" she said putting her head in the ground and rising afterwords her shadowy look from that gloomy place she decided to look at no more.
Have a great 2011, I wish you all the best and to act with sapience in matters that concern you directly, or not. And remember "what you don't know, can't hurt you" and "everything passes, either good or bad".
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