Red is everywhere. The colour of danger, of blood, of deep buried emotions, and of fear warning of tremendous pain beyond a physical injury. Each drop of blood rushing out of the wound reminds of each and every instance where I was disappointed and yet kept on believing and hoping for a miracle to happen.
A miracle which would end a lot of suffering and make me feel complete. Pieces of broken glass reflect images of fantasies I lived in, of a world of imagination that was so mine and yet I could not make them real. I never felt the need to justify myself but as the time passes, these shattered glass pieces hold the key for me.
May be, I am one of them or could be soon. The fear of being a victim of my own thinking overpowers me at times and these times are hard. As a drop of blood comes rushing out of the bruised finger, the reality of hoping for a miracle to happen soon seems vague and the journey seems endless.
Each drop of blood recounts a memory shared. I allowed myself to be taken for a ride because I have always believed in what the future holds for us. As i try to accept that a day may soon come when everything will be over and you will tell me the hard truth, I stop the fresh blood oozing out of the bruises.
The acceptance of reality is something I have gone over and over again but it never has stuck me the way it did today. I may become one of the pieces that need to be thrown out. My dreams look abandoned. My life looks incomplete. My love for you is still there but you never believed in it. I can not force my views on you but if it had to happen, it would have, had. Its time i accepted it. Let the blood flow, and give me the strength to fight it out with myself. Each piece of glass stands for all the times, I was shattered and yet i chose to live with it. Each bruise stands for the pain, I chose to ignore.
Yet, the reality is I was the glass in your life which would have hurt the dreams that you have. The mind says, it is better to move on, but it is heartbreaking just like the broken glass.
A miracle which would end a lot of suffering and make me feel complete. Pieces of broken glass reflect images of fantasies I lived in, of a world of imagination that was so mine and yet I could not make them real. I never felt the need to justify myself but as the time passes, these shattered glass pieces hold the key for me.May be, I am one of them or could be soon. The fear of being a victim of my own thinking overpowers me at times and these times are hard. As a drop of blood comes rushing out of the bruised finger, the reality of hoping for a miracle to happen soon seems vague and the journey seems endless.
Each drop of blood recounts a memory shared. I allowed myself to be taken for a ride because I have always believed in what the future holds for us. As i try to accept that a day may soon come when everything will be over and you will tell me the hard truth, I stop the fresh blood oozing out of the bruises.
The acceptance of reality is something I have gone over and over again but it never has stuck me the way it did today. I may become one of the pieces that need to be thrown out. My dreams look abandoned. My life looks incomplete. My love for you is still there but you never believed in it. I can not force my views on you but if it had to happen, it would have, had. Its time i accepted it. Let the blood flow, and give me the strength to fight it out with myself. Each piece of glass stands for all the times, I was shattered and yet i chose to live with it. Each bruise stands for the pain, I chose to ignore.Yet, the reality is I was the glass in your life which would have hurt the dreams that you have. The mind says, it is better to move on, but it is heartbreaking just like the broken glass.
