Flyaway

If I were a bird, I'd fly away, But I'm not and never I'll be, So I'll have to stay.

If I were a bird I would fly away into the snow that tumbles down so openly and I would never cry again, soft salty tears down my sleek feathers.  I could chirp so happily and nothing would be complicated.  I would rise early and soar away into the sunrise.

But I am not a bird so I might as well not try, I might as well give up.

People say they cannot hold on any longer, but they're scared to let go.  Let go and you will fly like a bird, like the bird I dream of but cannot be.  You may be one of the people who have found the secret to happiness, or not yet, but every one of you is a breathing, blooming miracle.  It is all the way we are made that we are the beautiful people we are today.

When people laugh at my pain I am not angry but I know that they are not trusted and wonderful, merely a friend.  I do not yell but I very calmly do not confide in them next time, or I do not speak to them as much, still politely but somewhat unattached.  That way they know that it is cruel to laugh when others are hurting.

There are people who do not know what it is to be dead, who act as though their lives are terrible but their lives are far from sad and they make drama for themselves for fun, not noticing the pain of the sad people through their lovegames and lustful laughter.

Once I laughed and made drama for myself like all my friends and the boys liked me and it was all lovely.  Then It happened and now I do not care if the boys 'like' me and the girls all want to be my friend.  And they don't care about me either.  I wish sometimes people would love more and accept that they love and others love but they never do.  Sometimes it takes sadness to know what everything is really about and what suffering is.

If everyone laughed easily and angered slowly we would live in a world of peace and understanding.  All would be good and no one would understand sadness and crying and the world would be hopeless and filled with fools.  That is why some people must have pain so they understand the world, and out of everyone in this cruel world, they - and no one else - are the only people who know love truly as it is.  That is why pain must exist.

I want love like everyone else but it is important to be like this:  Never truly love one certain person unless you are sure they cannot betray you.  Once upon a time I loved and now it's over because I was foolish, telling the truth and not behaving like a normal girl who loves boys and looking sleazy.  That was only a year ago but it seems thousands of years ago now, when I was foolish and uncaring for the people with depression.

It is always painful to watch the people who have discovered the secret to peace and happiness, as they laugh, unaware of tragedy that envelops this world.

They don't understand, no one understands.  We are the sad, the pain, in this world.


Maybe someday the pain will wear away and we will live like glorious angels, strangers with happiness, as if meeting a long-lost friend.  Maybe we'll learn to fly and join the flock of multicolored birds that flutter in the sky while we cling on, our wings ungrown.  Maybe we'll grow the wings and learn to fly.

Maybe we'll grow the wings.

Maybe we'll fly.

Maybe.

Maybe.