#truthsong

There's no words

For what is

Flowing out of

moving within

Dancing around

Me

It's like there is two worlds

That I'm living in

Two truths

That I'm feeling

Two parts of me

That long to

Be (united)

I wish there was a song

That could say all of this

When it's been so long

That I've seen your face

And now, everything is coming to the surface,

And the pain fights

And the love wins

In those nights

When it all begins

And it all ends

At the same time.

How can a little human being

Hold so much at once?

How can all of this

Be alive in one body?

How can eyes produce so many tears,

And how can I move forward with so many fears?

Courage.

I'm proud of my courage.

To stay here in the fires of a pain that I want to end with me.

The pain of being left

The pain of betrayed love

The pain of not having what is my life.

The pain of the world.

The pain that somehow fascinates me deeply.

So I stay here.

And my arms open and close and open

And my heart breaks and contracts and finds its truest essence

And my soul knows

And it whispers so gently.

It's a wonder I can hear it.

And I so wish I could run to you

When I see you

And I see you arriving here

And I see me see you for the first time

EVER

And I see me run to you,

Straight into your arms

And that would be the most courageous thing in the world to me.

How can I be so scared of what I long for most in this life?

How can I be so scared of something that I know you want, to?

And what can I do

To be so courageous

to just show you

How much I love you?

How can I be so courageous

To stay in this truth

The truth that we both know

That I'll never, ever, ever love someone like you?

And they say you have three loves in your life,

And I know that's not true.

For loving you

Means...

All the love in the world.

You ARE my world.

And I hate how cliche that sounds

I wish it was something special

To love someone like I love you.

And I know.

Deep down

I want to spend every second of my life with you

(Doesn't have to be physically present, just... being one. We can still be free).

I want to know everything about you.

I want to know every part of you.

I want to hear everything

That happens in your life.

I want to be a part in all of it.

And then I think of her.

Can I ever be as special to you as you are to me?

And I just wish I could be

As good for you

As is she.

Wish I could make you laugh like her.

I wish I was as easy as her.

Sometimes I wish I was her.

And that's just the pain talking.

And I'm so grateful,

Cause for the first time in my life,

And I think in my family's life, too,

I love myself so much

That I don't want to be her

Even if she has

Or had

You

When I didn't

Even if you could be with her

Who I always wanted you to be

Even if it's so easy to hate myself

When I couldn't be... Me?

Because I love myself.

I love myself so much

I can stay in this pain

And feel it

And still be grateful

To be me.

I actually feel my beauty now.

The blueness of my heart.

The soft hugging energy,

Protected by the outer shell.

I love the way I laugh

And how I love to cry

I love my love to miss you

And the fact that that's just protection

(Because missing you, I can love you without you having to be there. And I love the rafinesse of that).

I love my fascination

For the human psyche

And how I can look into the darkness

And be curious.

I love how I look back into the past

And how I wish you could have been you,

And I could have been me,

I really do.

I wish you could have been you

And I could have been me

And we could have been we

I really do.

I love the devotion

With which I create

My playlists

And I love how cute it is

To be so happy

That you see that.

I love my devotion to you

And how I always do everything and anything

To be open for you again.

I love how I breathe

My ashes to the fire

And how I burn

My pain in the desire

And how I float

To fly even higher

And how I get heavy

To sink even deeper

Because love is high and truth is deep.

Oh-ooh-ooh bring me higher love... the first song you ever shared with me

I love how my mind

Carries a memory

For every song I shared

And how I know exactly

What happened when I added that song to my playlist and what we did when it softly laid the sound ambience.

I love the beauty of my mind

And the perfected ugliness of my intelligence.

I love how I can hold the paradox

And dance in two worlds at once.

I love how I still am so clumsy

And still try to be so graceful

I love how I so want to be seen

And hide away when someone looks at me.

I love how I run away

Straight from what I want

So that no one can see

How badly I want it

And judge me for it, or take it from me,

And I love how much shame

I

Used

To carry.

And how I let that go.

And I love how I change that now

And how I'm the only one to truly see

How courageous it is for me

To show how deeply and truly I want you.

I love how I cry everyday

At multiple occasions

And how I was gone for a few months

Because I couldn't bear the pain

And I love how a part of me

Truly enjoys to have experienced that,

And rejoices in sharing how terrible it truly was for me

To not have you there with me

And I love how I slowly see

That that fascination comes from a deep need to be seen in how terrible it truly was for me

To not have you there with me.

Not because you weren't there.

You are so free

To be anywhere.

But because I knew that actually,

You wanted to be there

Here

With me

And we just couldn't.

And I love how I gave into that hurt

And still always had a part of me

To just watch the story

And to tell me to stay with me.

And I love how I learned

To take all that energy of the pain

And alchemize it

And how I finally have something that works

And how proud I am to have done it al(l)(most) alone

I love how I learned to feel my innocence

And how I learned to love myself

And how I learned to let the walls crack open

One brick at a time

And I love how I learned to feel the hurt

Instead of fighting

And how deep of a desire I have

To show my deepest truth

And how sometimes, I get so lost in my strategies to be loved and understood

That it is impossible to understand and love me.

And still, I love my intellect, and how I always analyze things

And how I infodumb to connect

Because no one's touch is good enough for me

But yours

And I love how I am so scared to say it,

And how I judge that before someone else can,

And how sad it is to be shameful of my loving truth.

So...

I want to tell no one but you.

No one gets me but you.

I don't want anyone but you.

Am I allowed to say that?

Does that sound stupid or dramatic or... ...?

Can I say something like that?

What does that feel like for you?

I hope you don't feel trapped by those words.

And I love how I have to see what doesn't work

So I truly want what works.

I love how I put experiment and experience

Before my own wellbeing.

And I love how scared I was, and sometimes still am, to admit...

That truly, all I want is you.

I don't want to live without you.

And I love how I can admit now

That I truly did everything I did

To be good for you

And maybe, that's OK.

I do it for me, too.

And I do it for you.

And mostly, I do it for us.

And maybe, its OK to see that sometimes,

You know much better than I do,

And sometimes, you have a much better taste in people than I do,

And always, you were the one who called me out of my hermit cave

And always, I made so many experiences

I could've never have on my own

Because of you.

And I love how every other second,

I'm so excited to see you,

And then I get scared,

And then I get excited to see you

And then I get the scares

And then I see myself running into your arms

And then I see myself standing there shyly and with caution.

And I so wish I can be courageous.

Or you just do it for me and leave me no other choice.

Do it so fast I can't think.

Because sometimes... I want to just be, too.

Or often, to be true.

And I love how for me,

Love is a choice.

A choice that I make over and over again.

To love you and love me, too.

"No woman," High Master Wolfstooth had solemnly intoned, "has ever become a Truthsinger. Except Hansche the Dark." Young Meros was not paying attention, transfixed by the Great Hall's high ceiling and the intricate murals that adorned the walls around him. In them were men of all shapes, sizes and ages, clad in blue robes much like those of the monk before him. And all of them had their mouths open, as if preaching or shouting--or singing. Demons shrank from them, warriors bent knee before them, and the weak rejoiced. Looking at all this, Meros felt a buoyant joy bubbling up in his heart, and a smile spread across his broad, mischievous face. It did not last long, as Wolfstooth brought his staff down upon his shoulders with a sharp smack.

"Pay attention, boy!" the monk growled as his new acolyte nursed his new bruises. "Now, where was I? Ah, Hansche the Dark, the wife of Guran Dragoncap.That's him on the window over there." The stained glass, lit by the late evening sun, depicting a man with flaming red hair and deep-set eyes. A handsome bloke, if Meros did say so himself. "She bore Guran sons, but not long after a plague swept through the land. They died." Meros shuddered quietly. "Hansche was weak, and her heart failed her. She started singing--truthsinging--and with such great grief that she woke the corpses in their graves."

"A Truthsinger may not raise the dead," Meros gulped. It was a very dangerous prospect. Anything said or sung while truthsinging had an uncanny way of coming true. Not that he could do it yet. Summoning a light at night was about the peak of his abilities...so far.

"Correct. But she had broken one of the five tenets, and so we silenced her." There was something chilling in the way Wolfstooth said it. "And since then, no woman can or ever will be a Truthsinger. They're not built for it." He stared at his disciple staring back at him, slightly pop-eyed, and smirked. "As a matter of fact, some say Hansche's ghost still lurks upon our grounds. You might catch a glimpse of her if you're not careful. The Truthsingers' Great Hall is built on top of Guran's hearth. She's still looking for the sons she lost."

Meros did not quail or swallow or show fear. He just looked thoughtful.

The witching hour arrived, and it found Meros Sophian Floss shivering in his nightclothes as he crept around the Great Hall, trying to find a way in. He wished he was allowed proper robes, but until he was ordained he could not wear the blue robes of his seniors. All he was allowed were the white garments he had on, and they were a pain and a half to launder.

"Wolfstooth tricked me," he grumbled after making three full circles around the building, west to east. "Hansche's not here. She's probably just something he made up to scare...little...boys..."

Meros' voice died in his throat as his ears caught footfalls approaching. At first, he saw nothing, only heard. His skin prickled with fear and he froze in his tracks. And then, through the door--yes, right through the big bronze doors, locked and bolted--passed a ghostly figure, clad in tattered blue robes, trailing a strange wetness. Meros' gorge rose as he caught a whiff of old, rotten meat. 

"Light. I need light. T-th-there's a light, in my hand, a candle," he quavered, his eyes flashing and fading between various shades of blue as he struggled to bring his power under control. "A candle is in my hand!" He closed his fingers around the sudden, solid hank of wax...and realised it wasn't lit. Hansche approached anyway, head tilted to one side and brow furrowed in puzzlement. And she seemed so sad, so lost, that Meros forgot that he was supposed to be soiling his pants with fear in front of a blood-and-bile-covered maiden. He took a step forward, meeting her gaze. His watery blue eyes suddenly flared deep, pure azure, smooth as glass and bright as the summer.

"Don't be sad any more. Find your way home, mother. Go to your sons."

She blinked at him, surprised. Slowly, Hansche smiled, then reached out her transluscent hands and touched both his cheeks. Her fingers were like ice. She turned away, walking towards the courtyard, and slowly vanished into the night. The smell of rotten meat slowly faded.