Carpet of Flowers
658 คำ
He laid his head back and closed his eyes.
Like a curtain of clouds.
He dreams that he's walking on a carpet of flowers.
The sky darkens and takes shape into a mirror.
I look up and i speak under my breath.
"Love me"...
That mirror then takes the shape of my first unrequited confession.
I only see a man who looked at the ground like he wanted to be in it.
The carpet of flowers is soft,
Like a dream.
Can i lose myself for a moment?
"Come back!"
My former self screams for me.
He needs me but I'm not him.
I believe in universal love,
but i left him behind.
He lives in my head now.
Cradling in that darkened room,
Watching his life through a screen,
Doomscrolling through life as he's looking through his window.
He has the power to break the wall that the window is on.
But he sees the window as a shield from the elements.
Even when it's sunny out.
It's dangerous business walking out your front door.
What do those doors open?
The world seeing how broken i really am?
A tool thats broken can't be used.
When your usefulness is the only thing that kept people around.
You simply fear being cast away into a crater of dust.
Repurpose me!
Shape me into a work of art.
Maybe if people can see my heart on my skin
They'll see me then wont they?
How can i expect them to know what a heart looks like?
They haven't even seen theirs!
Oh well, I'll wear this skin anyways.
I want to teach myself that just because nobody sees the beauty,
Doesn't mean it's not there.
Much like my deeds through my life.
I act without credit.
I'm Albert Einstein's best friend.
Planting seeds for the history books.
Nobody needs to know.
What are the benefits of going down in history?
You can do great things your whole life with a face on it.
But behind that face is the weight on your name.
To own all those things.
But to know that your name cannot defend itself.
I have no name.
I don't need one beyond the purpose of hearing it come from the lips of a moment that i never want to end.
Such a soft smooth sound that starts as air and wraps me into its beautiful embrace.
Feels like a blanket.
I look to find myself naked.
But safe and warm.
I look to the clouds and a storm is coming on the horizon.
I cannot use a blanket to shelter from the storm.
I lay bricks.
I build that wall with the window.
I look out and the mirror in the sky takes the shape of my body.
He visits about once a week.
Telling me to come home.
Its been years.
The home he speaks of is the home of a child.
That's child's name is innocence.
The memory becomes a dream of a child looking through a window in tears.
But we cannot see what's on the other side.
We're just a dark eyed old man sitting in a chair, not knowing what to do.
Close the front door and lock it.
Look out there.
The storm comes closer.
The serene sky loses its peace as the darkened clouds swallow him.
Thunder roars into the sky as the light tries to pound through the black cloud's gate to the ground.
So used to his feet being on the ground that he forgot how to fly.
He learns to fly and i watch the rain from the window.
Wright brothers vs the child's battle to keep hold of their innocence.
The child wondering what it would be like to fly.
The man in the sky screaming bloody murder to be on the ground.
They both want to be the other for a day.
I wonder if cloud Men walk on a carpet of flowers.
- ผู้เขียน
