25-11-2014 // Tears of joy, tears of pain. water drops that clean the soul, take the salt out of the wounds and slowly, slowly heal them – from sorrow, heaviness, darkness… Water of the heart, take out the darkness of the soul. Tear to me, show me your eyes in that most honest way, show me what you’re made of. I know you’re strong as well, but your weakness is so beautiful, fragile, soft, makes me want to touch you for a moment, hold you, just briefly, and gently pick you up like a feather and show you that your tears have made you lighter. And they’re lighting up a dark that we all have – you shine it through those mirrors of the soul. The mirrors reflect me. I see a bit of me in you when you look at me like this. But i’m not supposed to show it now. You can be weak if I appear strong now. That’s how it works – but you make me want to share with you, like you share with me – for a moment. Isn’t that what it’s all about? The sharing? But your sharing doesn’t feel like I should return it, not right now, you are about pouring now, pouring your heart out, and I am here to listen, listen to the rain fall… upon my roof, filling my well, becoming a sea of solitude in which you swim. You talk in code, words that I don’t understand, but it’s ok. There not being said for understanding, they’re being said for lifting the weight. The weight, on your shoulders, on that slender body that can be so strong if it wants to – and to gently open a heart that is so full of feeling it could burst – like a shell with a beautiful bright treasure inside – for a chosen few to find, but surrounded by a fragile mass that can’t be touched, and leaving a big space around it for something to fill – fill up the space between you and the present. Now – salty water is flowing through, reminding you. //