Knock, knock against the wall
I knock back
Sending a message through the wall
I won’t stop knocking until you stop
A note under the door;
I never knocked on the wall, what are you talking about?
Right from the first step outside the grey buildings, when our worn down sneakers landed on the uneven stone stairs, we knew this day called for an adventure. Even if that just meant bikes, strawberries and the blue lake.
The two bikes were parked behind one of the school buildings, and the other two of us climb up on the back. The wind in our hair and the rush from going too fast, makes us laugh and smile freely.
We sit down on the grass, by the sparkling blue, but cold, lake. While throwing the little green tips from the strawberries at each other and in to the water, our smiles grew even brighter.
It was only recently that the sun had started to warm up the ground, and the summer is short, but we all know we will remember this day way after the sun stops shining.
Hi. I noticed you, from all the way over here… I vaguely recognise you. But I don’t know you.Not anymore.
Would you be my friend, still? Do you still have that sunshine smile, are you happy enough to laugh and love unconditionally?
I don’t know your face as well, have you lost your summer freckles? Your hair is shorter now, different, right? I don’t know your insecurities, if you still have them, they must’ve changed. Have you changed, too?
I don’t know you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know you, though.
The light in your eyes resemble something I once wished for, maybe just slightly less bright, there’s a grey shadow in them.
How are you? Are you doing alright?
Do you have nightmares? I have them all the time. But I daydream loads. I hope you do too.
I wish we could meet some day, but I know we won’t.
Maybe we’re too different. Or maybe, just maybe…. we’re too similar.
Why sacrifice your sanity, your happiness and your youth for comfort, safety and control?
Leaving behind what does nothing but harm you, is not giving up or running away; it is simply realizing your own worth.
You are never stuck, locked up or forced to stay, you can always choose to start over.
Keep your head up, keep your eyes on your goal, keep your dreams alive. Keep going.
Unwind me // Wind me up
Shut me off // Tighten my spring
Put me back into a box // Break my walls
Cut my vocal cords // T
ie marionette string to my tongue
Knit my lashes together // Paint my eyeballs pink
Fold my ears inside out // Make the mice roar
Suffocate the light // Set fire to the world
do you have to go?
i know you have to go.
i have to go.
but do you, really?
you have to go now.
i have to go now.
i have to leave.
do you really have to leave?
you will miss your train.
i will miss my train.
i wish i could stay.
don’t miss your train.
(please miss your train)
i don’t want to miss my train.
(i really want to miss my train)
you can’t stay.
i can’t stay.
i love you.
i love you too.
Wrapped in familiar arms everything was simple. Here it would be easy to stay.
Then I heard your voice, even though it was miles away it pulled me back.
We belong to trains underground, Coca Cola owned wheels and a clock named Ben.
We write our stories on crinkled coffee shop napkins, with cheap jet black eyeliner. Rough at the edges, smudged lines; fairytales but with tragic endings and without sparkling bliss.
Rays of sun through glass windows compete with our clouded minds and rainy eyes. Sorrows braided into galaxies, puddles made into swimming pools.
We are just spilled paint in an art portfolio, the shards in a broken mirror.
She could not help it. The laughter had taken over her being and now she only existed as the uncontrollable exhales. That was all she was; which was far more than she had ever been. A shell or perhaps a mask. Covering up the lack of substance and personality.
It wasn’t her fault; at least not entirely. The world could’ve have been a bit more understanding of her chaotic creativity. But the way it always goes she was branded a lunatic.
At first she’d fight it. Tell people off. Stand up for her beliefs. Eventually she stopped. Her efforts were all for nothing. Realising she would never be seen as anything but, she instead became it. She did not own it; she was consumed. The very essence of her being had abandoned its independence and was now solely an image of what other people saw in her. Their prejudice; most of all their belief that she would never be anything but.
And so it goes. The different become freaks and individuality withers and dies.
She sat in the corner trying to hide the fact that she was eating a co-oped bought donut in an itsu restaurant. Life had been stressful, it still was. A rushed move had taken place a few days earlier and they were now stuck, stuck in a place that reminded them both far too much of pink bathroom walls. During the last couple of days she had stopped feeding herself, surviving only on the occasional donut. But she wasn’t alone in feeling a bit homesick, they all felt it, the longing for someplace safe, someplace where the future wasn’t painted in black and grays. For all of them existing wasn’t as easy as it had been a month ago.