We are damned- to be born in a world where Love is second to tradition and superstition. Today i’m a little more cynical. Today i’m a little more jaded. A little piece of my heart turned to stone today.
Today i watched helplessly as two hearts were broken. In one fell swoop, the wisdom keepers, the elders of my family passed their judgement and made it clear that no choices are available. The only option- broken hearts.
Hands that don’t touch.
Lips that don’t move.
They sat looking at the broken pieces of their hearts.
And all the around them the chatter- the cacophony of words that don’t heal; more salt on their wounds. Could no one see it wasn’t helping? Could no one hear the shredded pieces of their hearts rip further with each word of encouragement?
Or is that just the sound of mine own heart breaking again?
It’s for the greater good they say.
Death is the only certainty in this life.
Would it not be better to spend these fleeting moments we have with love, with happiness?
What use is a long life if we deny ourselves, through human constructions, barriers and limitation- the chance to be happy. To be loved.
My soul is a little less whole today; the world is a little less beautiful.