I am made up only of windows and doors. My windows are high, no glass, no curtains and doors are always open. They do not even know the word “lock”. And anyone can take a look inside or to enter. And they stand as much as they want: minutes, months, years. But when they leave, they take with them some of me. They broke pieces from the furniture of my soul. And they chopped my confidence. They took it as a blanket for their couch. From my innocence, they tore strips to make their doormats. And from my love … my love, they bite with their sharp teeth repeatedly, to have what to hang on the wall. They took everything from me just to decorate their own soul. What for? Why to portrays on the feeling of someone else? For which reason, you wrap with someone else’s memories? And yet, I never close the doors and I never close the windows… I just offer myself to the others until there is nothing left from me and with nobody else from the others.
You are comprised only of walls. Your walls are so tall and thick that one can not penetrate them. You have no doors, no windows. You said you did not need them. There, nobody goes anyway. You are locked and no one can steal something from you. But even like this you have many scars. Because, from time to time, some people have managed to get over your walls. They stayed there for a while, then they left, having under their nails, in their mouth and the hair, parts of you. And now, standing behind your old walls you refuse to let other people to join. You do not want to lose what you still have. And, because of your fear, you forgot… you have forgotten that we are not all thieves. You forget that some of us, we offer ourselves to others unconditionally. Without asking anything in return, without taking anything back. You forget that some of us could fix you. And you don´t hear … You don´t hear that some of us, we scream your name, asking you to let us in, without the hidden intention, without wanting to harm you. You don´t hear because of the walls that you strengthens every day. And you stay closed, keeping up only your own person, until one day, you will not be enough for yourself.
And neither you nor I, we do not know … but my windows need your walls and your walls may love my doors.
(All photos on this website are copyrighted material and all rights are reserved Margò Wiessman)