WE’RE LOST AND FOUND

We are the stolen photos and the hugs that become synonymous with the word home. We are on Saturday nights staggered for drinks with friends that make us less embarrassed and the other six evenings of the weeks spent in front of a movie or a good book while sipping hot chocolate or tea. We are the four seasons in one, the loose sweatshirts that smell of freedom. We are the newspaper clippings attached to a notebook and the hippy van with which to travel the world. We are the fleeting moments in which happiness, smiles and tears reside. We are the I love you and I love you whispered in your ear, I miss you said with my eyes, I would like you thought and never uttered. We are the thousand books that fill every corner of our house, the poems that make us dream and the slips of paper with the thousand phrases written by our handwriting. We are dreamers desperate for happiness. We are the life that deserves to be lived.
At my age, I still haven’t learned how to manage anxiety. In reality there are many things that I have not learned and that no one has explained to me. They teach us the equations, on the 5th of May by heart, the names of the seven kings of Rome, and no one clarifies us how to face fears, how to accept disappointments, where to find the courage to bear pain.
And so it happens that those people who entered your life for the last time become the first in time of need, the first to listen to you and to worry if you really eat it you were friends for life. It happens that they amaze you and make you feel special with the smallest precautions. On the contrary, those you know live at any moment seem like they don’t know you at all. Do not sow if they notice what is most evident, or they simply will not see.
And Coraline cries,
Coraline has anxiety,
Coraline wants the sea
But he is afraid of water
And maybe the sea is inside her.
And every word is an ax,
A cut on the back,
Like a raft that sails
In a raging river
And maybe the river is inside her.

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