sábado, 22 de julho de 2023

my monthly mourning

Postado por Bianca Barion às 21:09

the natural anxiety remedy you bought on one of your trips

it assumes the bulky role

and almost miraculous

to erase the memory of the comfort of sleeping in your tender arms

my mourning begins every time you get up and leave

or open the door of my house and go down the stairs

my heart sinks and the scenery drops into a black and white world

I don't know when I'll hear from you

or when I can intertwine my fingers with yours

when will I see your body moving again with my purple backpack

I cry

I stay in bed

but i don't allow it to last more than a day

it's already 180 days of grief

among them days of happiness

where I learn the size of the joy I feel by your side

will be proportional to my sadness away from you

that's why sometimes I'm afraid, while you protect me, hold my hand, caress my hair

how much will this weigh at the time of your departure

I wanted to live in a reality where every day would have its share

but not

maybe my heart will meet your next month

like the keyring broken in two from Romeo and Juliet

we attract like magnets

and separation is painful

but happiness is so great

I realize, then, that there are pains worth bearing

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