POLLUTING

It's nothing like it. 

Nothing like it when you listen to your favorite boy's favorite song, then the music echoes between your walls and finds a place in your heart. I think it's pretty cozy there.

Then it plays and these words come off like a shedding animal- all you need to do is brush. The hair comes off so smooth, painless and soundless. 

And why do people shed tears? Well, I know for one thing- I do when I'm extremely scared, but not necessarily when I'm extremely sad. You sit alone in a large room of Sadness; there are no tears, only emptiness. Pure, mute, and thirsty. 

And when something is too beautiful, I also cry. Nothing would ever be beautiful enough in real life to make me cry though, because something of that extent takes a lot of courage. In real life, no one has the courage to make or form something that beautiful.

--

I was a boy. A royal kind of boy, probably a prince, but one among my many brothers. We lived in a land surrounded by gardens and water, but it wasn't an island. Half of our land was underwater and half was above. It was gray-blue and green.

There was a celebration that day. I didn't quite know what it was about except everyone was excited and getting ready. I had enough of this place. We were rich and our soil was rich, our water shined and the sun lived, but I felt thirsty. I guess it was sadness. 

I have a girl outside. I don't know what she looks like, but I know she's mine. 

I left when they were all busy. I dove into our blue-green waters and held my breath for so long. I swam for hours and was reaching the border of this place I called home. I hid somewhere between the water grass and rocks to get air. Then they caught me. 

I don't know how they saw me from afar, but they did. They were coming to get me now, no one could leave this place. It was perfect and no one could leave.

Lines of boats rowed out to take me home. I saw the faces of my brothers and tenacity. I pulled out a bow and arrows. I shot them.

I shot them all. Farewell my family and farewell my home. It's the only way, the only way to leave this blue-green place.

Exhaustion found me all over as I lay by the banks of the bordering land. Then there she came from a large hole in the wall, and I know she's mine except I cannot recall her face.

I brought her presents from my home. They were things she's never seen. She was silent with her eyes agape as I explained each. There was a sword and brand new clothes for us.

She picked up my hand and we left in fresh wardrobe. I was in her land now. It's a place without splendor and majestic gestures. Things were broken and misplaced, but that's also why it's beautiful.

It's a place involving layers of walls aligned in concentric circles and of low ceilings. Each wall had an ample hole in it for us to walk through if we put our heads down low enough. Flowers inundated from every inch of the cracks between the bricks of the walls. Her place was humid and water drops glistened on every petal. It always felt like dawn there. There was no sun and no moon. Just a labyrinth of walls and circles, and of flowers, blue-green flowers and green-blue flowers. 

--

The thought of this makes me cry. The thought that I never knew this girl, and yet I love her so makes me cry. The thought that I killed my family for a stranger I loved makes me cry. And, the thought that this never really happened, but all really happened is painfully beautiful, and so I cried. 

And that's why we shed tears. It streams uncontrollably... all you need to do is brush.