Some of us are unbreakable. And while that sounds like a good thing, it isn't. What it really means is that pain is your constant companion. Even if your pain receptors were damaged and you can't feel anything else.
Every glimmer of hope will be something you get to watch until it dies. Over, and over, and over again. But you never die with it. You're unbreakable. Immortal. You just exist, forever. No matter what change happens around you. You are fixed, permanent. Despite the desperation to be as ephemeral as the rest of humanity....
The unbreakable are not made for this world. We love without limits. Because we have none. But everyone else does. So what good is it? To be such as this? Doomed to be the observers, we are never able to really take part in the ongoing dance. Yes, I've seen wonders. Many. And will see many more still. But those wonders are little comfort in the void of eternity.
Who can walk next to me? The breakable cannot follow where I go.
I am not made for this world. It is too small. If there is a place I fit better, I have not yet found it. Would that my heart not mend itself so well upon injury. I am tired. But unbreakable feet never stop moving. Unbreakable hands continue to create. And unbreakable eyes look longingly at all the delicate people around me. The ones made of glass. For they have something I want, very much: Fragility. Mortality. An end.
Or perhaps, a new beginning....
Every glimmer of hope will be something you get to watch until it dies. Over, and over, and over again. But you never die with it. You're unbreakable. Immortal. You just exist, forever. No matter what change happens around you. You are fixed, permanent. Despite the desperation to be as ephemeral as the rest of humanity....
The unbreakable are not made for this world. We love without limits. Because we have none. But everyone else does. So what good is it? To be such as this? Doomed to be the observers, we are never able to really take part in the ongoing dance. Yes, I've seen wonders. Many. And will see many more still. But those wonders are little comfort in the void of eternity.
Who can walk next to me? The breakable cannot follow where I go.
I am not made for this world. It is too small. If there is a place I fit better, I have not yet found it. Would that my heart not mend itself so well upon injury. I am tired. But unbreakable feet never stop moving. Unbreakable hands continue to create. And unbreakable eyes look longingly at all the delicate people around me. The ones made of glass. For they have something I want, very much: Fragility. Mortality. An end.
Or perhaps, a new beginning....
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