Faces that are becoming dear to me, sometimes I hate you. Sometimes you annoy me, frustrate me, look right through me when I need you to see me. Don't walk past me! Don't smile politely. I need you to really look at me, to ask me.
Faces of strangers, you are family. We share so much, let's share more. Let's listen. Let's care. When I am lonely, I will look around and see if you need me to ask. When I dry my tears I will say "are you okay?". When I'm exhausted I will reach out a trembling hand to steady you. In my weakness, I will try.
But I need you. To see me, to speak gently to me, to give me a shoulder to lean against for a minute. To love me when I'm not worth it.
Because I love you too, even when I hate you, my family of strangers.
3 comments:
I was watching an old Swedish film called "The Silence" for the thousandth time. thence the plagiarist title. It seemed to fit into the silence i was wrapping myself in.
when your strangers become family then inane definitions lose their rigidity. as ever peering into your life and soul is a fulfilling (if prying) pastime.
And these words can easily be confused with poetry.
We're all lonely people at heart, though, and no amount of company can truly change that.
We are all strangers to ourselves; looking at each other we hope to see mirrors, and are disheartened when we see a rock solid mirror-frame - the glass turned away from us.
But sometimes we do find mirrors with the glass turned to our sides, no?
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