Hanging out with a firefly

She’s so dull during the day, but comes alive at night. At times I don’t know what to do with her during the ever so long hours of the afternoon. She just hangs around my side; we don’t talk, barely have anything in common. I almost loose interest completely. It almost becomes a burden; the fact that we’re such different species and there’s no point in even trying to go against the norm and be in a relationship when I feel nothing, when we feel nothing, when I can just settle with the woman my mother picked for me.

But then comes the night and there’s something in the certain type of summer evening breeze that brings about this distinct rosy fragrance–and the skies are pink yellow gold, and the stars begin to undress their marvelous glistening selves and I look beyond; and there’s a sea of fireflies– stars here on earth, over my land, casting their magic spells into my heart once more. So I run after her, my firefly, and capture her within my grasp, and when she sees me I swear to you my heart stops; that’s when she flies out of my palms and glows up above. And I can never reach for her, and my heart grows ever fonder, and I promise myself that there is nothing else in this world that captivates me so, that keeps me alive, that I’d give up everything for.



My source of inspiration

How far should I travel, to find you, my source of inspiration? How much longer should I wait, until I see your face again from another dimension? Until I converse about life and all things that I’m battling with, and for you to give me some tips on living? How long can I sustain the flickering images of you in my forgetful memory and the soft wisps of inspiration, like shots of alcohol that drain through my system and are forever gone. Can you help me enjoy this falling sunset over the hills through the cracked window of the prison cell? Will you be there for me at times when I’m too afraid to speak to anyone? Will you hold my trembling hand and lead me up to face it all; under the bright lights that reveal my naked soul and my vulnerability exposed to the whole wide world? Will you help me learn how to shield myself from sharp arrows shooting at my frightened heart from all directions? And will I ever, eventually, be able to stand tall and welcome these arrows by myself?