ihnen wachsen flügel, wie einem adler

Zurück ans Meer - BRUCKNER

the worst kind of sad is not being able to explain why.
it happens randomly and there's no trigger.
the worst nights are the ones where you cry until your lungs collapse.
until your milky ribs can no longer protect you from your damaged heart.
when the pain all catches up to you in one muffled cloud of torrential rain.
and all you can do is soak it all up.
alone. but somewhat happy still.
you realize that is all you are.
that is all you have ever been.
and that is all you will continue to be unless you start building skyscrapers not only in your head
but in reality, forming your future with your own hands.
remember how you were tracing the skyline with your fingers?
the way the wind kissed your skin?
the way you chased the moon, stitching the stars together into patterns?
what happened to you?
how does someone fall out of love so deep?
how do you stop loving the latern in the sky that sung you to sleep every night for years?
how sad do you have to be?

22. märz 2020