Looking out of the window into the pale blue sky I see a bird flying by, telling me she’s heading to a faraway place making the last turns around the well-known face, watching it’s flowers and towers from above. And I ask her if I can fly there too, so I can finally let go of you.
Sometimes, I find myself hating what disturbs me. I show a thought the middle finger, when it comes to turn over my stomach. I try to push it, drown it, ignore it, before it can make me feel, what lies beneath the thought.
Yet I know, that I have a choice. That I decide what disturbs me, and what brings me closer to myself.
I find myself at peace when I look at all of those pieces, I am put together of and just let them be exactly what they are.