Lighter

Locked up within these 4 walls that never seem to stretch, but instead contract every thought that comes to mind into one. With it comes an overwhelming feeling that needs to be expressed. Perhaps it is these walls that are craving for a story, the walk to fame, or perhaps the downfall of an empress.

You see, my lady, you cannot lie to these walls, for they have seen and heard more stories than most do in a lifetime. Look outside the windows, if you even care to look really. It is your kind that I dislike the most, with their masks that seem glued to their faces. But surely you do not believe this applies to you, my lady. No… not you, my lady.

One is to admire someone who persists in ecstasy all the while walking on shattered glass, leaving traces of blood with every step taken. Yet there was once a time when you looked at your reflection through those exact shattered pieces that were once your mirror. Where are you looking now? Is it perhaps a new mirror?

Oh right… my lady… I apologize. I got carried away with the waterdrops across the window. It has been pouring rain the whole night and they, they keep walking down the street, passing through that useless flickering streetlamp without any umbrella to shield them from the cold drops. And just like you, they keep walking ignorant of the life within the lifeless. Don’t you see what I see, my lady?

A tree has many functions. It too can shield you from the rain, yet people merely see it as a tree, a pencil to write with and chew upon. Yet this old tree has witnessed wars, love stories, and perhaps miracles as well. Who is older? Who is wiser? Who then is truly ignorant? That old geezer… or this old tree?

Agh… I seem a bit agitated. I apologize once more. I need to be benign with my thoughts, my lady. I know that you are someone who would rather amputate your own hand for the sake of helping others. But what function does that sacrifice serve if you cannot compose your own melody for those who still have ears to listen?

And those who do not… well…

let them dance to their own note.

Yet as spectacular as that sounds, it surely takes a great deal of your energy, my lady. And I know you are pure-hearted. So much so that your purity of truth could cut even the most noble priest within the kingdom. Even he must abide by the divine laws of our universe. A dog will without a doubt wag its tail to its master even if it has been chained its whole life—just like Cerberus guarding the gates of hell for his master, Hades.

I’m exhausted.

I need some air.

Breathe, my lady.

she stood up from the sofa and took her pack of cigarettes, lighter, and keys. Before opening the door, she remembered to take her umbrella. Once outside her building, she turned right into the alley and found herself staring into a mirror that only those eyes could reflect.