How “I” stands big and tall. A pillar, the lighthouse watching the city go to sleep.
How “we” is soft and sWEet, symphonic, blissfully deep.
“we” knows about modesty. About fruitful pain, compromising expansion, strong acceptance and vulnerable equality.
“we” never forgets about “I”. It could not live without it and knows it. “we” appreciate “I” and never takes it for granted, as “we”, without “I”, might never be.
“I” forgets about “we”. Only from time to time, never on purpose. Don’t judge me.
See, “I” thrIves on “we”. It feels magnified, electrified while developing through “we”.
It finds no ending to the horizon of what this addition might be.
one+one=3. You and me, and the small “we” created lately. Maybe we renounced when “we” became too big and tried to compete with me.
I-we hurts. Grief of what this person could be. Until I realise that the “we” that you made flourish within me always will be.
Der Beitrag erschien zuerst auf Young Migrants