Dried Poppy Flowers

I Want to be Your Emptiness

Your silence...
It's killing me.
I sit there right next to you, trying to figure out what's going on, doing anything possible to pull out a single word from your mouth, but all you do is just sit there quiet. Without making a single move, you're staring at the same place, at the same emptiness. You don't say a single word, you don't even move your eyes and I can see the same emptiness reflecting in your own eyes. I sit so close to you and still I can't reach you. You just close yourself up, you don't let me get closer to your soul, you build a wall between us in your mind, against which I'm powerless, I'm nothing.
Why?

Until this very day there's a part of you that you're still hiding from me. Even after I've opened up myself like a book in front of you, you still have dark corners hiding somewhere, not letting the light reach them.
Am I still a stranger?
I thought I had won your trust a long time ago, but turns out it was not enough. You broke me, you opened up my eyes. No matter how close I get, you still keep a distance between us. Why?
How silly of me to believe that this was something different, that there was nothing but a see-through curtain between us and our hearts. Now I see that it's a cage, a glass cage hiding you from all, including me.
So simple and yet so deep...
So close and yet still so far...
Right when I thought I've reached you, you back up again.
Am I asking for too much?

I just want to be truly close to you. I wanna be there. I want you to stare at me and not at the empty space. And yes, I will even be willing to be that emptiness for you, just stare at me next time, I will be your emptiness, please, stare at your emptiness... Stare at me...

© LiLit Ghazaryan

The Midnight Sun

Don't ask me any questions my friend, I don't have answers for you, I don't even have any answer for myself.
Does it hurt? Not anymore. It's been painful for so long that now the pain has turned into a part of me, a small piece that I have to carry with myself, because the reality is that it will never leave me. That piece is you, my friend, you and the distance that is standing between us.

Did I need to go through all of this to realize who you really are for me? No, I knew it already. What was this journey all about? What was the meaning behind it? How could I be so blind? Leaving all you have for gaining something you wanted so badly... Was it worth the price? Was it a wise decision or a reflection of the wish staring at me?
I tore myself into two pieces, two parts that will always be fighting against each other. Will the battle ever end? No, it's a part of me, a part of the struggle I carry around within my broken soul. I draw a self-portrait with two different faces staring at one another. I turned my soul into a hallway with sliding doors and the ghosts of the memories keep hunting each other in those hallways. I did this to myself. I divided myself into two selves that are so alike and so different at the same time.
I watch sunset while the other part of me desires to see the sunrise at that very moment. I try to get lost in the darkness of the night and the other half of me is seeking for light and sunshine. I stare at the moon while the other self of mine sees the sun in the bright afternoon sky.
And what do I get as a result? A sunset followed my morning, the sun shining around the midnight stars.

Don't ask me questions my friend, I myself have a lot of them, but I've stopped asking any. I blindly look at the sun, shining brightly in the middle of the night, surrounded by millions of stars...

© LiLit Ghazaryan

The Damaging Help

I was standing in line, waiting for my turn to check in. Another flight was waiting for me, another short trip about which I was neither excited, nor worried. Two people were standing in front of me. From their conversation I figured out that they were father and daughter. The daughter was a young woman and it was obvious that she had a visual disability.

I was busy with my own thoughts and was not really paying attention to them until their turn came to check in. The assistants wanted to help the woman and carry her on a wheelchair. The father was trying to explain that she didn't need any help, but they insisted. That's when he lost control over himself. Seeing that the staff did not pay any attention to what he was saying the old man got so upset that started to yell: "My daughter is blind, but her feet are fine, she can walk perfectly! She just doesn't see, but she can walk to the airplane herself..."
"It's ok dad" was the only think the daughter said and sat on the wheelchair.
The father's eyes turned sad, the upset impression turned into a feeling of guilt, he looked sorry, sorry for his daughter and for himself. There was so much pain on his face, he would probably just sit there in the middle of the airport and cry if he was not so embarrassed. He was watching his daughter leave on a wheelchair, feeling completely helpless himself.

I was already on the flight back home, but I could still hear the old man's voice: "My daughter can't see, but her feet are perfectly fine!"

© LiLit Ghazaryan

The Monster... Jealousy

I look at you again with that tricky smile and ask "Are you jealous?". Even if you are, you try to hide it using all your professionalism, without even realizing that the only answer I want to hear is... "Yes".

Yes, I want you to be jealous, maybe just for making sure that you still care. I need your jealousy as a sign of care, attention, as a proof that I'm still loved and wanted. Yes, I want you to be jealous, I want you to feel how it hurts. I want you to realize that love is not always sweet, romantic and nice.
You think I'm cruel? I'm just weak, I'm lost in my own game. Why? Because of all the other ways I choose the most silliest one just to be sure that you still love me. How stupid of me... And how risky at the same time. I know, I know that every second you can just walk away, that's what the jealousy does. It's like the narrow line I walk by and I can fell on any side of the border every second.
I fight against a non-existing wall between us, creating a real one. I'm walking through the fire, hoping it will bring back the flame of our love and instead it's burning the only connecting bridge we have left.
"Are you jealous?" Please say "Yes"... Please...

Jealousy is a monster, it can be cruel, bitter and blind.
But there's a kind of jealousy that we all need sometimes.

Are you jealous?
It's not the question that matters, but the answer... Sometimes...

© LiLit Ghazaryan

The Shadows in Love

Photo by LiLit G

... and our shadows fell in love.

To love...

It's when you always see he's reflection right next to you every single time you look at yourself in a mirror. It's when your shadows follow one another no matter if you are together or not, close to each other or apart.

To be loved...

It's when he's looking right into your soul through your eyes even when he's not facing you. It's when he touches you with his look and whispers gentle words with his silence.

Together as one...

Գրիչն էլ զենք է

Մեր կյանքը պայքար է: Պայքարում ենք բոլորս, պայքարում ենք ամեն օր: պայքարում ենք գոյատևման, մեր նպատակների ու երազանքների համար: Պայքարում ենք, որ հասնենք ավելիին: Պայքարում ենք չարի ու վատի դեմ: Աշխատում ենք գտնել բարու փոքրիկ բյուրեղիկներ ու դրանցից մեծ բեկորներ ստեղծել: Պայքարում ենք թե՛ մեր, թե՛ շրջապատի խնդիրների դեմ: Մեծ ու փոքր, կարևոր ու անկարևոր, բայց բոլոր այդ խնդիրներն էլ իրենց ուրույն լուծումն են պահանջում: Իսկ ո՞րն է մեր զենքը: Ժամանակի ընթացքում փոխվում են խնդիրները, դրանց հետ միասին փոխվում են նաև զենքերը: Բայց բոլոր այդ զենքերի հետևում կանգնած է հզորագույն ուժերից մեկը՝ մարդու միտքը: Իսկ մարդու միտքն արտահայտելու բոլոր միջոցներից ու ձևերից լավագույնը գրիչն է: Այդ պարզունակ իրը, հայտնվելով մարդու ձեռքում, հոգի է առնում, կերպարանափոխվում է ու շնչավորվում:

Դառնում է բարի կամ դաժան, միամիտ կամ խորամանկ: Չարաճճի մանուկից մի ակնթարթում վերածվում է իմաստուն ծերունու, հեքիաթից տեղափոխվում է դաժան իրականություն: Իր տարբեր ու հետաքրքիր կերպարների խաղացանկում կարևոր տեղ է զբաղեցնում զենքի կերպարը: Դառնալով զենք՝ մարտի է ելնում, գնում պայքարի, բղավում ու զայրանում: Գրիչը դառնում է ամենաքաջ մարտիկն ու ամենատես մարդը: Եվ զենքերից հզորագույնը՝ գրիչը, դուրս է գալիս պայքարի: Շրջում է փողոցներով ու չի անտեսում ոչինչ: Լուռ հայացք է նետում իրականությանն ու գրում: Անվերջ գրում է: Տխուր նայում է փողոցի անկյունում կուչ եկած մուրացկանին, նստում նրա կողքին ու շարունակում գրել: Հետո գրում է անտարբեր անցորդների մասին, որ անցնում են այդ նույն մուրացկանի կողքով ու միայն անտարբեր հայացքներ նետում նրա վրա: Մի անցորդ էլ դրամ է նետում ու ասում.

Desire and Obligation

When "I want to" and "I need to" meet each other and start to fight again...

"I want to" is what comes inside you, from the corners of your soul, which tries to control you. Your "I need to" is the society, the way you've been brought up, the norms you used to follow all your life, never thinking that those norms might be wrong. You were just following the ideas that did not belong to you, all the while hiding your "I want to" in a small cage, in the furthest corners of your thoughts. But the desire gets stronger one day and keeps reminding you about its existence. Two different sides, two fairs and only one choice. Not an easy decision to make. All you want to do is to follow the voice of your soul, but your fear of the "society" keeps whispering what you really should do and the "I need to" comes back to you again.
-Don't cross the line
-What line?
Didn't you create all those lines yourself? Then just move them a little further, as long as you don't cross the line it doesn't matter how far the line really is. When you yourself follow the "I want to" but show everyone what they want to see, then people will think that you're doing whatever you should, following your "I need to". Isn't everything just great now?
© LiLit Ghazaryan