What You Choose?
I see perfect couples all over ,
I see these fairytales ,
I see it from the eyes of a girl
I see one man showering her girl with joys and care ,
with a sense of security ,
and with a heartfelt love.
And then how smoothly they exchange vows, how easy was the transition…
How sometimes being satisfied can give you peace and clarity.
It fills me with this dirty , disgusted anger,
or maybe they are the pangs of hatred for something I couldn’t get …
They fill me with hatred ,
For the ones I see,
For the ones living that fairytale.
And then I look here , at my side …
The torment, the tide,
For that one moment of exhilaration,
The numerous nights of anxiety .
The constant fights with my own demons,
The fears of failure.
And yet another morning ,
Yet another day,
Wanting to battle it alone,
Wanting to build it alone,
For its my road ,
Its my dream ,
And I have stopped believing in supports,
I have stopped wanting my hands to be held,
For there have been to many aches,
too many broken dreams,
too much of efforts into a shallowness that returned me nothing ,
My hands might be cold
But that’s how they have been since long ,
Cold And Bruised when I wanted them to be held,
And now ,
They have healed … but just cold ,
So I warm them with my own breath ,
With the warmth of the shining sun ,
And I tell that lil girl in me
Fairytales are fables made with a man,
And legends my dear,
Legends are realities made alone .