…And you held my hands, both of them. As I hold you now in my heart. My hands don’t forget the strong and gentle hold. I’m not alone.
You gave me strength, in a good and also in a not so good way. We are alike in many ways. I forgive you, I forgive myself. We are learning, all of us.
The saturday night movie, the talks about traffic, my wedding, my mother and my late ending childhood await… there are moments we didn’t get to share. I’m torn. So soon, so sad, so fast. Oh, life!
It will always hurt imagining one or more little mouths of my own learning about life and love, learning to walk and talk, without Buba being one of their first face associated words.
I miss you. Buenas noches, papi.
My lines have gone to a wild land that I do not know. No one does. They have been gone for months, for a lifetime.
Those words that hug each other forming multicolor lines that have hidden under the velvet flower vase, inside the brown treasure box, and beside the imperfectly peeled oranges.
The lines have crossed my face instead of my fingers, in a period of time where growing up was not an option. Though, stubborn child I still am, with a wronged soft heart and a sharp mouth. A child that could never adapt quite well, no matter where. A child who does not understand life and all it takes. A child that feels too much for her own sake.
They -my lines- have gone to find what they know I am still looking for. It fails to come to me to finally figure out if it exists at all. Oh, lines! You are in my mind, across my heart, sailing away. Away, somewhere, away, disguised as prayers made of light and inaudible songs. You have kept away while I selfishly calm down my heart, treat it well, keep the doubts at bay.
Cursed be the wait and the bad earthly faith that touches the great souls that only good deserve.
I feel it come. Low voice, slow pace. It comes.
Five seconds that made the blue car stop. Stop for the stray cat’s ninth life’ sake; and then, carry on. Carry on to crash with a momentarily misplaced white car down the road. It’s crucial. In the same way, it won’t go.
Subtle at first, playing with my hair; making me feel the touch I lack of and crave for.
It comes when I wait, while evil monsters play with our hope; so far water splashed but safe on the shore. Evil seeds planted for me eyes to see. Green growing facts only a fool could forever refuse or foresee. One of those envied fools with a velvety heart; unscratched, unnamed for.
It’s a lie, all a plot. Once again. I don’t deserve love. It’s true, what it seemed. I’m alone.
Play that song to me. The one that says what you don’t already know, all what you know, and all we need to know. Calm down the beast, let it find peace again and keep walking this long lonely road. The road that one day, will be no more.
And sunlight won’t shine back… Thick dark gray clouds are holding her back.
Slim times -like a well peeled apple skin- allow me to see her, calming my thirst. But the pollution joins the persistent clouds.
And the selfish fear grows in me… the big new fear of one day not seeing her again, for as long my time is time in this life. What life? Without sunlight, I’ll kiss it goodbye.
Not strong enough to shine trough it all. Sunlight, I’m all confused, lost in the dark.
Take up arms. A new made up war that was planned long time ago by a bunch of brain cells.
Take up arms. In defense of liberty. In defense of profit. In defense of peace. What is real?
Take up arms. The location was unknown until the day that beheld a revelation had come.
Take up arms. Face the unknown that makes you worry and rant; and calls for teary eyes.
Take up arms. Make plans. Make distances insignificant. Make time spread, as ductile steel.
Take up arms. You bear the unbearable. Wicked pain. You might faint, but strong you remain.
Take up arms. Today, tonight. Tomorrow. I share with you my soul if yours gets stumbled upon.
Only real wars are worth the fight. The only real wars are those from the heart.