I was going my way,
It was a tough quest
But I was confident
That it would take me
To my destination.
Then I hit a wall.
Bewildered I began to wonder,
On what side of the wall
Am I supposed to be ?
On what side of the wall
Was I before anyway ?
On what side of the wall
May I meet my true self ?
Would it have felt
Like the late evening storm
That ends a day of suffocating heat,
Would it have provided relief,
Had I kissed her
When I had the chance ?
Would I be living less in the past
And a little more in the present
Was my train of thoughts not like a merry-go-round,
Would I be able to move on,
Had we had more time together
When we both seemed to want it ?
Would it have made her less obsessing today ?
Would it have made me spare the pain
Of telling her
“good night” ?
That bubble in which I live is my horizon,
The bigger, the more my bubble encloses
People, time, opportunities, smells and colors,
The world.
The Universe.
Other Universes, real and fantasized.
My life is me moving inside of my bubble,
Trying to make it grow,
Trying to make it mount the rising slope,
Trying to make it roll faster in the descent
And laugh.
When the bubble shrinks to the point
Of being my second skin,
My world get smaller,
My own universe smothers me.
I become blind to my environment,
To the possibilities,
Not because I get self-absorbed
But because I become self-contained,
Illusion of a tiny Universe,
That cannot exist.
A black hole to be born.
A bubble of chaos
Floating in the air
Like a child’s balloon set free
By accident.
The disease had no name,
So my body handled it
By its own.
Making me feel older than a dying tree.
Every move and every thought,
Like a marathon,
Like a boxing fight.
My strengths consumed, I felt fragile as a dried flower.
I soon entered a survival mode, concerned only
By immediate matters,
Eat, sleep, repeat.
Survival is like a long tunnel.
Nothing to be seen ahead I could only rely on
My hands to feel
walls and obstacles.
Driven only by the will of not turning back simply moving forward.
My morale was slowly diminished by the lack of physical strength,
Like an iceberg
Taken away by the sun.
Inside this tunnel, there were no milestones, so I got lost.
Only when I approached the exit could I realize,
How lost I had been.
How dark it was down there.
How I could have lost myself forever,
Just because of
An invisible tiny bacteria.
Mood changes,
I wish I could be stable.
I am not.
I am always in motion, changing.
My tea ritual
Is no more.
I am too tired for it.
I miss it or not.
Mood changes,
I can’t understand my self
I try though.
An endless pool of contradictions.
Some people like me
Nonetheless,
And in a selfish way,
I feed on their love.
Mood changes,
I want to cry when happy.
I do so.
I don’t know when I got so broken.
Two years of my life grown,
Thirteen kilograms of love,
Currently sat on my lap.
My arms a comfortable nest
Around her belly and chest.
Of all the cuddles, this is the nicest.
The truth is, despite appearances,
Maybe she is my nest,
Comfort radiating from the inside.
Two years old
She already knows what she wants,
and expresses her wishes better than any adult.
She tells me what she wants from me,
And will get anything she wants.
Always.
Except when not.
Parenting.
