Break It Or Leave It, Screaming Armor Cracks; Exposé

In my high tower, I was thinking behind the thick walls. What else would I think about other than freedom? About the blue, calm sea, the vastness and the world without prejudice. The thought that nobody is my companion and nobody waits for me, makes me really sad. What if a strong wind breaks my wing? To whom shall I return? To the walls that define this void? It’s better to die free.

The passions have many nuances. One blue, calm and reclusive appears only in my sleep. Yellow is a spark that accelerates the spread of the fire. I’ll burn out completely from red. My red wins me completely. Not so quietly and gently as blue but rather aggressively, almost destructive. Without notice, without a plan, suddenly there are bucks in my soul. Huge flames are spreading in waves. They ruin every brick of this wall that keeps me locked in. It’s nice in a safe and quiet place. But here I am locked up without you and deprived of liberty, and what can be worse than that? All the fires of this world can’t hurt me as much as this loneliness.

Oh, when I think that I am the culprit of my isolation. Yes, I was willingly agreed to that. But you’re guilty as well. You let me go. By thinking that you are helping me, you let me go and got used to the luxury of introvert life. How can I come back to you released? Are you going to recognize me? Will you understand that I am no longer the statue in which you fell in love? The one made of stone and salt, full of red bricks. Will you see the sea as a wave in my soul? Will you recognize this gentle blue passion with which I started to love you? I’m afraid. You will refuse me. This way, I’m too far away. You are not accustomed to peaceful love, I know you. You are too wild, as I used to be.

Sometimes you could not bear my outburst of wild passion. Now I’m afraid you’ll be horrified by my solitary steps. I am not a saint so that I can live without you, but like them, I’ve found peace in solitude. I used to be a bear among bears and bird among birds, and now I am like a wolf. Maybe you want to be part of my small pack? I don’t promise you fun, I promise you love and freedom when you get tired. What do you say, am I fair enough? While I’m waiting for you, I am going to think about whether I need to rinse my shield or finally smash it.


~ Zorica ~






The Art of Joey Havlock