I envy you
I envy you, all of you who have never known the warmth of a woman, you who have never known what it is to be wanted and be needed. I envy you, all of you who have never known how to carry on with a broken heart. My heart is full of envy, for those who have never known to touch, never been bewitched by a kiss of love, or a kiss of lust. My soul is jealous for all those who have never allowed themselves to drown in the rivers of sweet words and disappear in the long hugs of they that wanted to come first. It is better if you never ran with them through the hills, holding hands and laughing crazily, it is better if you didn’t lie in the sand to watch the sun laze across the sky, for the pain that comes when it all falls apart is not worth the moments you had when you were alive. The death inside your soul is thick and heavy, grey and pale and it threatens and tries to suffocate. I envy you, all of you who have never had to cry yourself to sleep, who have never sat to mourn a part of yourself lost and cast away. I am glad for you, all of you who have never felt like they want to rip their beating hearts out and throw them into the trash bins, all those who have never felt like sliding down the wall and weep for their crushed souls and their forsaken dreams. I envy you, all of you who have never known to fall in love, who have never given their hearts only to have it returned shattered in pieces, abused and abandoned. I envy you, all of you who have known heaven when everybody else was floating in cloudy skies. I feel envious about all of you who have never been torn apart, never to be stitched again. I envy all of you who never believed that love will find a way, but that it will remove all of them and hurl them far away from you. I am glad for all those who never stopped to chase after mirages and distant drowns of overcrowded rivers. I envy you, all of you who have never had to answer for their lives and their choices. I envy them all who refused to come second in their lives, those who willingly refused to have themselves shackled to anything or anyone, for how sweet the ring of freedom sounds in their ears, and how soft the patters of their heart lulls them to sleep. I envy them all who never sat down to wait for love to come to them, but fell in love with themselves first. It is a huge vacuum here and we are claustrophobics. If we could hide we would, but love will find us and choke all life out of us. I envy you, all of you who will never bother to reap because you never sowed. We saw petals on the rose but they gave us the thorny parts. We saw them bustling with life, but they were zombies, ancient relics on the inside. We would quit on love but it is not our choice, for it is only the owner of the key that can get you out of this prison. I envy you all, who have broken your ribs, shattered your knees and fractured your thighs but have never been able to cradle in your arms a broken heart.
I envy you, all of you who have never known the warmth of a woman, you who have never known what it is to be wanted and be needed. I envy you, all of you who have never known how to carry on with a broken heart. My heart is full of envy, for those who have never known to touch, never been bewitched by a kiss of love, or a kiss of lust. My soul is jealous for all those who have never allowed themselves to drown in the rivers of sweet words and disappear in the long hugs of they that wanted to come first. It is better if you never ran with them through the hills, holding hands and laughing crazily, it is better if you didn’t lie in the sand to watch the sun laze across the sky, for the pain that comes when it all falls apart is not worth the moments you had when you were alive. The death inside your soul is thick and heavy, grey and pale and it threatens and tries to suffocate. I envy you, all of you who have never had to cry yourself to sleep, who have never sat to mourn a part of yourself lost and cast away. I am glad for you, all of you who have never felt like they want to rip their beating hearts out and throw them into the trash bins, all those who have never felt like sliding down the wall and weep for their crushed souls and their forsaken dreams. I envy you, all of you who have never known to fall in love, who have never given their hearts only to have it returned shattered in pieces, abused and abandoned. I envy you, all of you who have known heaven when everybody else was floating in cloudy skies. I feel envious about all of you who have never been torn apart, never to be stitched again. I envy all of you who never believed that love will find a way, but that it will remove all of them and hurl them far away from you. I am glad for all those who never stopped to chase after mirages and distant drowns of overcrowded rivers. I envy you, all of you who have never had to answer for their lives and their choices. I envy them all who refused to come second in their lives, those who willingly refused to have themselves shackled to anything or anyone, for how sweet the ring of freedom sounds in their ears, and how soft the patters of their heart lulls them to sleep. I envy them all who never sat down to wait for love to come to them, but fell in love with themselves first. It is a huge vacuum here and we are claustrophobics. If we could hide we would, but love will find us and choke all life out of us. I envy you, all of you who will never bother to reap because you never sowed. We saw petals on the rose but they gave us the thorny parts. We saw them bustling with life, but they were zombies, ancient relics on the inside. We would quit on love but it is not our choice, for it is only the owner of the key that can get you out of this prison. I envy you all, who have broken your ribs, shattered your knees and fractured your thighs but have never been able to cradle in your arms a broken heart.
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