I’m on the verge of tipping over as I stand on the plateau of the pile of sadness within me. I don’t want to hear sad songs anymore since it’s fueling my despair I feel within, but yet I dredge for words under the pile of discontentment to save myself for once.
I’m not saying that I don’t try to maintain my happiness through writing, but as you may know, I hate the word “try,” because try implies that I’m not doing it, but skimming on the surface of actually “doing.”
Sad songs do move me to feel melancholy, and it has helped me to write from the heart, but to stay sad would not benefit you or me, so I’m doing what I can to find words of happiness.
I remember your voice; the texture of softness and sweet sound when you talk to me. If it were possible, I would do whatever it takes to hear you speak again.
Even days go by, and this winter seems to settle in for a long while I still feel the blooming of your heart. In the soil of your mind, a flower has started to grow. I’m sure you won’t be in that tight bud for too long but blossom in grace and nobility. Isn’t that what you want? You are the nightingale which has been caged in for too long that you forgot how to sing. If I sing my song, would you then remember how to coo behind the bars which have imprisoned you?
It’s not the bars that you sit behind which keeps you caged in, even if there were, you still have a key to open it. The key is your soul. It will surely nudge you to step your feet outside the cage and find your freedom. Find a way to fly and soar above the clouds where you will always see the sun rays reflected in your eyes.
Don’t wait for anyone to give you the key because those keys will not fit in with the lock you thought has kept you behind bars. You have to remember that the key is within your grasp, it was always there all along.
Open the cage and free yourself, beloved.