Mirror mirror on the wall
I look at you and see flames bursting from circles. You seem nervous, upset, angry...even mad!
Your look spitting fire at me.
"I didn't do it John...I swear!"
No response.
The eyes still gazing right back at me.
"Please STOP...I didn't do it!
There was silence when suddenly....
the glass became torn apart, cutting us into a million pieces....SPLASH!
The mirror collapses.
"Where am I?"
"Still in hell brother...still in hell"
Everything
The power of word rebels when I write to you MY DEAR SAM!
And I know that I am being a complete stereotype when I say that my stream of thoughts is being blocked by my emotions.
What am I to you?
Do you only feel loveless hate for me?
And if this might be so, I know that we came to the end of the line and that you shall once again become the non-existent one.
The power of word
A word has power of being present indefinitely. A word can leave fingerprints. And they might even hurt.
One after the other we create a whole. And when we finish we leave to a our co-human to feel and learn. Feel the explosion bursting from the paper and learn more about who we are.
Writing is creating. Like reading, but you set the tone and your imagination is the only barrier.
This is why.
Dear Sam
And while misery sometimes runs through our veins. And the walls of despair trying their blocks around us. To make us invisible.
Don’t you worry!
Because the light of the sun always comes, and warms our body with joy.
And we that stand with you dear Sam, are the real ones.
So close you eyes and count to three and misery will be gone from thy.
The stones will disapear and we will hug you and make you reappear.