-this is meant to be read out loud-
it was three years ago
as she listened to this song
called >>spirit cold<<
sung from Tall Heights,
and all she did was listen
while she turned off the lights
so let me paint you a picture
living in vivid colours
with red and blue and all of the others
three years ago,
maybe also two,
it was night outside and in her room
still
she'd got one thing left to do
I remember her
little 17-years-old-girl
wearing nothing but her Bon-Jovi-Shirt-Pyjama;
she knew nothing, cause
her life played too much drama
so she went into the night
laying down in the cold-sweaty grass
and she prayed as if
her life consisted of
way too shattered glass
she fell in love
without a saving rope;
she fell
full of future, full of hope
she folded her hands
and prayed into the sky
watching an ocean of shooting stars
slowly passing by
and the world stopped spinning
as she prayed to God
she offered her pain,
she offered a lot,
cause as much as she loved an angel,
the angel just did not
so she cried
between her sheets of
grass and leaves,
suppressed sorrow between her teeth,
she lost it all,
but still believed:
“Dear God,
I don’t mean to interrupt too long,
but you know,
it’s really hard to feel alone
I know that only you can make me strong,
but I don’t know if it’s worth holding on…”
she prayed those nights
from winter into spring
and all that her inner fights could bring
was an up-growing woman turning older
from feeling weak to feeling bolder,
but she never forgot
the angel at her door,
causing all the things
she always prayed for
it was unrequited love
that changed her mind
and formed the world to make her kind
now she’s somewhere else
when it’s night
she forgot the song
she always listened to,
starting to feel alright,
she still prays about an angel who’s not in sight,
but there is no cry
it’s different now
all she’s doing is saying goodbye,
cause what God always knew
and she knows now is
that love wouldn’t ever allow
to break her heart,
what’s hurting is the new-found story
she just needs to start,
an unexpected kind of art
and that’s how she found her guard
to sleep at night
a spirit cold to feel alright
YOU ARE READING
it's her.
Poetryit's about a women as liquid as the sea, brighter than the first light, your very own sun it's about a girl braver than a pack of wolves, stronger than the ones she feared and still warmer than your heart could feel it's a universe, a passion it's...
