imagem: José Calimero

My redemption was intimately connected to yours
To your admitting of Thy mistakes
I didn’t go as far as to imagine your cold wrinkled face asking for forgiveness
A word, look, deed
Would have sufficed
But silly me,
I hope for too much
My expectations were in sync with what I thought you were
Only, you are not
You don’t exist in me
You are a distant exiled land
Where I thought I could migrate to
one day
You are my biased childhood memory
Stained by my hands covered in red ink
I don’t even know if you were ever there
Here, in me
I probably invented you
Do you ever wonder if you have lived up to your imaginary self?
I allow my hands to heal from your wounds
So that you can be buried
At your gravestone, one will read:
Here lies he, whose name cannot be pronounced
He who has failed
Rest your selfish self far off from all of us
And guide my steps away from your shadow.

Deixe um comentário

Preencha os seus dados abaixo ou clique em um ícone para log in:

Logotipo do

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Sair /  Alterar )

Imagem do Twitter

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Twitter. Sair /  Alterar )

Foto do Facebook

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Facebook. Sair /  Alterar )

Conectando a %s

%d blogueiros gostam disto: