A story of forgiveness, from anytime - 267
i don't want to go home.
There are black and white shadows sifting on the walls, my love, and they whisper tales of shimmering sea breezes and cloud shapes and blood red sunsets, and they flicker in the firelight my dear, and speak in tongues of love. And I think of you when I see them, and your art splashed on the chessboard wall, and your pictures speak of sorrow and atrophy and the hurt in your honey hazel eyes, green birds in a yellow-sick sky. Why is this wasteland your home? Dry cracked sand and the famined earth that does not forgive its people. I have known you too long, my sweet, and these colours, the richness of the paint runs the colours in rivers against a black and white canvas and drips splatter the floor with self-hatred. Cowardice and jealousy are not crimes, my love, and you must not be afraid
(Forgive yourself)
I will not let you be harmed. Who are we to question what we hate? But do not hate yourself for in doing so your breath only grows more ragged and your heart only slows (do not kill yourself). I miss you, it’s true, your black and white walls bathed in shadow ghosts and slashed in jaundice yellow poison green and the blood of broken hearts. I miss your art, but my love this has to stop, your arsenic and bitter tears will only drown your soul and not your sorrows, don’t break your own heart - there are plenty of somebodies and nobodies in the world who will do that for you. Be strong. Dare to be yourself
There are black and white shadows sifting on the walls, my love, and they whisper tales of shimmering sea breezes and cloud shapes and blood red sunsets, and they flicker in the firelight my dear, and speak in tongues of love. And I think of you when I see them, and your art splashed on the chessboard wall, and your pictures speak of sorrow and atrophy and the hurt in your honey hazel eyes, green birds in a yellow-sick sky. Why is this wasteland your home? Dry cracked sand and the famined earth that does not forgive its people. I have known you too long, my sweet, and these colours, the richness of the paint runs the colours in rivers against a black and white canvas and drips splatter the floor with self-hatred. Cowardice and jealousy are not crimes, my love, and you must not be afraid
(Forgive yourself)
I will not let you be harmed. Who are we to question what we hate? But do not hate yourself for in doing so your breath only grows more ragged and your heart only slows (do not kill yourself). I miss you, it’s true, your black and white walls bathed in shadow ghosts and slashed in jaundice yellow poison green and the blood of broken hearts. I miss your art, but my love this has to stop, your arsenic and bitter tears will only drown your soul and not your sorrows, don’t break your own heart - there are plenty of somebodies and nobodies in the world who will do that for you. Be strong. Dare to be yourself