People go, people come, things happen but they sometimes don't heal, you have been destroyed with their words. Knowing that you will not be the same person when you hear their cruelty is just an irreversible feeling, which is incapable of feeling loved and wanted again, expecting that from anyone but not from that bird that used to sing to you in the mornings in order to open your eyes. and then; with a grotesque feeling, ending what you were just building with them, as if it was composed by materials as wood and sticks, such as a nest in an immense tree. Something stronger than an earthquake, something more fearless than a hurricane, a wild whirlpool full of fire being unable to leave ashes. You have been withered like a flower in old age, when you could only look at the rays of the sun and the light of the moon, calling you in whispers like a lullaby. Missing them when they were taking care of you, as if you were the only piece of diamond in the place, a pirate's most valuable treasure. Everything collapsed, the desires, the illusion have been destroyed and just... thinking about it again, a wide and deep emptiness emerges, you can say but never feel... they have now other priorities and their preoccupation with power and desire with the material it has suddenly consumed them. Feeling like you don't fit in, at least in the core of bees, the same ones who saw you growing up, is out of your control, of course; the hero you used to call "dad"... now you can only call him by the normal name like it is about a stranger. And, at this moment, not even feeling a connection with the hive, the same one you used to call as "family..."



© Aztrodead