Turn Chaos Into Art

Or say, that she understands, but doesn’t know what it’s like.
Let’s even say that she fears happiness and therefore will always be on the verge.
I’m afraid she’s not used to be loved, considered, wanted and such. It must be really strange and uncomfortable to have someone after her to give her shelter and a ride in paradise. She just sneaks out! What monster is that she sees all the time? Why can’t she be blind and accept the touch and the whispers instead? By trying to see the best, she’s living the worst. The best might be blurry now, but it’s there. And I find no way to open her eyes. Maybe she’s in pain, in a real pain, I don’t know. I am. I say, I understand her. I need her. But she doesn’t know what it’s like to need. With body, heart and soul. All together burning in the same hurry. How dare you love to be so slow?

[Kate Polladsky]