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I Appreciate You
hEADaCHE, Vegyn
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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When my grandmother was sick
I used to carry her groceries home for her
To get there, I had to climb this hill with a park on it
I walked the same way every day
You will know how this feels
One day, because I wanted the best for myself
I tried out a new route through the park
It went underneath this bridge
Decorated with statues of famous Italian poets
And bits of graffiti on it that said shit like: "end back pain"
Underneath the bridge
Which was basically 500 years old
Was this enormous puddle that covered the whole path
I jumped over it
Time passed
And I started to hate the new route as much as I hated the old one
I hated it because it seemed like such a waste of energy
And I hated myself because I'd chosen to live my life like this
But I still use the route even after my grandmother died
I don't know why, really
I was into detours and compulsive behaviours, I guess
Do you get the picture?
One day, around the time that we are moving back to London
I took that route again
But the crazy thing is
Is that the puddle wasn't there
And I just stood like a stunned chicken
High for the first time in my life, and jumped
Time passed
I wanted the best for myself, you see?
The wind blew me all around the world
It was loathsome
And I loved it
I loved to die, and to be undone
I ignored letters that said "do not ignore"
I waggled my cup and asked for more
I ran laughing into the fire, but I didn't burn
Because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me
Every time I had a thought of any sort at all
I asked myself the same questions
Is any of this real?
Is any of this true?
Is it going to be like this forever?
The answers were no, of course
Summer came eventually
Autumn after that
Then winter, then spring, then summer again
You get the picture
Since being told to abandon all hope of rescue
I have decided to rescue myself
The body
If divided in two, cannot survive
But the mind can
God grants my eyes the grip
And my soul takes care of the rest
Time turns our lies into truth
And they fit
Not like a boot, but more like a glove
You see the door is behind you, and it opens if you turn the handle
You break in, and then you break out, and then you break up
And the gentle sort of pain that follows you
Is just the part of you that is still listening to the music
Don't let go of it
If you don't have to, don't leave it all behind
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