Life And Memories Inflicting Affection

my dearest sister of love and pain,


yes, you’re right:
i knew.
or maybe i hoped to know, was hoping for it.
and secretly felt it, already.
in you.
like you in me,
straight away,
from the first picture word.


i also loved complete,
with all of myself,
in everything,
and so much more than i thought and wanted to be able to.
i also loved with the future and the past present in me,
loved with open eyes,
until the one that stole them from me blinded me fully
by stopping to watch me.


so,
yes,
our loves were,
still are,
no matter what,
alike in life,
characters,
disappointment.
so alike....


alike now this emptiness of living lost in ourselves,
broken and exhausted by the sting of the salt,
in this labyrinth of skin and missing one so much,
a labyrinth where we don’t know how to feel the way back to what we are anymore,
what we were when,
before.
- how does one live happy without that completely shared life,
loved in blood, water and giving?....


and this not knowing that there is nothing we can do to bring it back.
and not knowing if, anymore, anyway...


and not to have something that would silence or bring some relief to the cruelty of them violating the places of our love – how could they, those places of everything we believed to be ours forever, even if, even now?... -, where we gave ourselves and were so much more than ordinary mortals, us, alive with love and future.
nothing that stops the knife of pain of seeing them constantly imprisoned in images of another hands, another relief, in strength and feelings that are no longer born from the memories of our love,
that is just abandoned, with nothing more,
without even a break,
one single moment of respect for the memory of what we lived and gave there,
as if nothing,
no one else in the world but us.






...













but one day
- i promise it to you beyond these tears that my veins cry, in a body abandoned by itself -
it will be ours, as well, the greater peace
of living without their love.
forever.
as those who, now, without us.


i promise.

despite the pain
in the black of the olives
and the red of the poppies
that pair.

i promise it to you.
to us.


until then,

my friend of hidden face and feelings,

let us breathe.










( " help, i have done it again
i have been here many times before
hurt myself again today
and the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

be my friend
hold me, wrap me up
unfold me
i am small
and needy
warm me up
and breathe me

ouch, i have lost myself again
lost myself and i am nowhere else to be found,
yeah, i think that i might break
lost myself again and i feel unsafe

be my friend
hold me, wrap me up
unfold me
i am small
and needy
warm me up
and breathe me

be my friend
hold me, wrap me up
unfold me
i am small
and needy
warm me up
and breathe me " )






















(image: danae, by gustav klimt)