Jaumear

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The Frames throw at me an exact sentence from the darkness of my room: your will changes everyday, it’s a choice you’ve gotta make. I don’t understand. A sad voice keeps singing. Always never seems to work. Why is he so right? I ask to myself while loneliness enters through my pores. Saliva drawns my throat and it gets harder to swallow. I take a deep breath and my lungs burn and all of a sudden I feel a tear rolling slowly down my face and an impulse grows from inside like my entrails are going to explote. I need to get out of here. Mp3 keeps stuck in my ears and a violin echoes with weak tones from a far away place. We can burn this bridge or stay. I don’t know what I want anymore! I never did! And yet I can only think of seeing you, touching you, making love to you and yell out from the roof tops that this so called life of mine doesn’t belong to me anymore. Where did we leave the need for absorbing each other every second like it was the last one? I run too fast, escaped afterwards, I wanted more, but asked for less, gave everything even knowing I had so much more saved for you inside of me in a place dead long ago. Always never seem to work. I’m down the street. I try to walk without shedding more pain. I look into the faces of the people who pass along. I wonder if they cry too. I clench my teeth because the will to live pour away from my eyes. Music stops. The song is over. But somebody invented the repetition mode. They talk to me about decisions again. I would sell my soul for a kiss from you. For a smile from before, for you to grab my hand another time, for you to look into my eyes without saying a word while they say everything that is to be said. But I have nothing left to sell. I gave it to you. You took it away. Mis steps stop. I can breath normally again. I dry my tears with the back of my hand. I erase from my thoughts the warm touch of your lips healing my war wounds. I raise my eyes. Time will be the judge of all here. So right. I take off my headphones. The sounds of the world overwhelm me. A bunch of kids come back from school. “I want candy!”, yells one of them to his mother. She nods and the miracle appears. Somebody smiles. I stare to the sky and I understand the pain will go away only if I decide it has to. I can go back home now. It may take a while, but it’s time to burn some bridges.

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