PROTECTED

Dreams in the drawer, underwear on the bed, doubts come out of the wardrobe. Yet it always takes me twenty minutes to choose the shoes. I open the shutters, another rainy day. The neighbor yells at her little girl, she doesn’t know how lucky she is to have her. Maybe we never realize the little miracles that happen in our life, for one reason or another, we are too worried about what doesn’t happen. I think another day has passed, even at 8 in the morning. I don’t have time to start, which has already passed. Like sand from your hands, you would like it to gush out of your palms to the bitter end. I am hungry for life, I need air, I want to hug everyone before being a memory.
To slide. The sensation of entering the leather of the seat of this train. I walk away, the body following the thought. I’m not here, I’m elsewhere. These feet are not mine anchored to the shiny, dirty floor. It is not my eyes that see the reflection of these buildings that alter with uncultivated trees and abandoned cars. This whole periphery is not mine, the strength that abandons me, the memory that presses to get out of my head. It is forbidden to cross the tracks. It is forbidden to leave thoughts. I wait for them to leave me. How I abandoned you.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Ashley
    Dec 17, 2021 @ 19:25:59

    And I’m still here! πŸŒΉπŸ™‹β€β™‚οΈ

    Reply

  2. abvr
    Dec 18, 2021 @ 06:55:10

    ❀

    It’s an incision into the wound
    The irony of the title and the closing line.
    The woman screaming at the child
    The thought running ahead of the body

    Painfully crafted
    With a steady and dignified pen

    Reply

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