on some nights, my mind would be restless like a thousand little ants, creeping over my limbs and not letting my spirit to shut down. during those nights, I crave for a shoulder to lean on, for a hand to wipe the tears, for a pair of arms to keep me close to a beating heart, for a mind like mine; a pair of eyes to see through me, a spirit restless like mine hungry for understanding. I have wanted someone, I could read like the back of my hand, to touch the taut muscles with my fingers, to play the body, like it was my own musical instrument. I have wanted that freedom like it's an organ within me, pulsing with a need to be acknowledged, praying for its pleas to be heard, and hanging loose from a thread of heartbreak. I have stayed up late on some nights, when my ears wanted to hear a tone that could lift me up, higher and higher, where there is no sadness and where there is no darkness. I have wanted someone to touch my pale lips and ask me why they are so pale. I have always wanted a set of lips to recite poetry in the language of my tale, where there is always a dark cloud floating in the red skies, and the sun is moody like the cold moon. I want... I want...

I want to be heard in my silence.

just because I fear my cries will send them running away.

____

©VioletEden