A Slow Head (Windows for Doors)

[ A slow head went through the mirror and crushed onto million pieces. That head was mine!
I remember being young but not brave, I would sit back and dream about the steps of my feet. I never looked beyond the point of my fingers. I remember being young but not beautiful, I would hide behind closed doors and white pale walls. I never felt the sunshine on my skin. I remember.. I don’t remember anything beside that, I guess!
The sounds in my slow head were so loud and silent at the same time. I could hear them buzzing inside my mind and running through my cells, but their words and phrases were trapped inside my white blood. I think if I was able to hear them, I would be a different person now. Maybe brighter, smarter.. even more beautiful. Yeah! you heard me right.. beautiful! Like having butterflies all over my head, and maybe feather on my lashes… or I guess, a rainbow on my lips. Beautiful like weird! Beautiful like a house with windows instead of doors. Beautiful like roses in a grave yard.
Now, I am over a billion years; too old to die but just too young to not try… to live.
I have wings now with scars all over them; a proof of my survival. I fly so often, not that I don’t want too, but when I was young, I was not brave, my slow head was always in the sand.
And, eventually, my slow head went through the mirror and crushed onto million pieces and now, I am trapped in the darkness and I wish… I wish that back then, I listened to them sounds, I wish that I was able to free them and let them lead me to the place where wonders happen… I wish! ]
-“What do you get of this passage?” he asked me. I didn’t look at him, I just kept looking at the window. I stood up briskly and walked to it (my window) and pointed at it.
“I am putting a window in the place of the door,” I told him.
“Huh?” he mumbled with a frown.
“This is the moral of the story,” I explained, “instead of doors we build windows.. more light would come in.”



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