Slowly... I begin to think of you- You who are just like me. The me, who I could've been if it weren't for... But no, I won't say it, because even it that were not true, I could've easily become just like you. And that is why my heart goes out to you. Because I know how it feels to be like you- to feel like nobody cares, nobody knows, they just judge you by what they see with their own clouded eyes and not what God sees with His heart. That's why when you talk to me I can feel your pain behind the soft, smiling exterior. When you look me in the eyes, I see the little girl trapped inside, desperate to escape. So what do I do? Because you are just like me, me who I could've been if I never learned how to cry, or how to be angry without rage, how to be frustrated and figure out why; if I never learned how to feel. You- the expert at numbing yourself so that when it all becomes too much, you explode, then you become me and feel a shitload of emotions, then you become yourself again because you don't know what to do with it all. So I take the pieces of you that I could've easily become and pray for those parts, more so than the others, and I accept you with a nonjudgmental heart. Because that's what God would do, and that's how it should be. Because I think, when I look into the mirror and see you, way back there, hiding behind my eyes, underneath my smile, and I remember that I could've so easily been you.(Image by Picasso)
No comments:
Post a Comment