sábado

Lies


She would be cruel to me -ever since childhood, when we met. She would say love was a lie, would say,

there is no such thing as happiness, for the world is made of suffering and feeds on pain...


I knew papa loved me, because he would always say so. And I knew happiness existed, since I would feel so in my heart. Which She did not. However would I try and cheer Her up, one way or another tears would always win me over, and thus so many nights I would spend crying bitterly the deepest of agonies. Deeper even then those of Hers, since there wasn't need for Her to weep -for no eyes water over disbelief. But indeed, it's given the fact that one has been living a lie what hurts the most...

Then again, whenever morning came, He would walk in and wipe those shameless tears off my face with a limp hand and tender voice. He would say love existed; would say happiness was true...
Unlike Her, He could not explain himself, which somehow worked as the basis of the difference between both statements, as well as the reason why He was able to renew my weakened faith almost instantly. Somehow. Anyhow. Hence, though He would never smile openly, anything He would say, I was always willing to believe.

However, today He said, one must never believe everything one is told.
And I wonder, whether good times always come to an end.

Alice rests on the bed next to mine, a single word caught in her throat. She is fighting it, needless to say. Struggling. It's written on Her lips, a cold cry
dieing down to a whimper.

(liar)

I get up, walk towards, jump over Her. It's not me She struggles against, so I feel, and this time tears won't win me over. Her lips are dry, not surprisingly, and it takes a few seconds for Her to give in.

What... are you doing?

No way I can possibly repress the urge to giggle before such astonishment.

Showing you love, you silly thing


I wonder, whether good times always come to an end or they simply cease being for a while,
to let us suffer a bit and then surprise us with a dazzling comeback.

Maybe they do so. So that we can enjoy life.




2 comentarios:

Valerie dijo...

I remained without words.
This post is beautiful.

Rumpelstiltskin dijo...

Pretty, pretty, indeed.
You know that words are the castle, don't you?