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  Apr 2020 Jeniffer Bermudez
s
There are so many poems about sadness
Some about crying
Some about boys
Some about dying

But

There should be more about happiness
Some about dancing in the rain
Some about letting it all go
Some about being free of pain

So go ahead and write about anything and everything
that brings you happiness
You loved my gentle
You loved my quiet
Can you learn to love my ferocity?
My cacophony?

Aren't I just as beautiful
When I'm burning?
some days they are sad. sad about the weather, sad about the thing that happened last night, sad about losing their favorite book, sad about their coffee being cold, sad about the fact that they can't find matching socks. lots of things make them sad, lots of nothings make them sad too. you see, when you have a predisposition for being sad, every little thing counts.  so when you ask her why she is sad and she cannot answer, do not press further. do not go looking for a reason that just isn't there. when you ask what you can do and she says nothing, do not be hurt. do not feel useless. when she wakes in the middle of the night and she is silent, but you can feel the bed shaking as she cries, do not assume you know what she is feeling. you don't. hold her if she wants it, don't touch her if she doesn't. if you ask her if she wants you to stay and she says yes, do. but if she tells you to walk away, do not listen. stay with her, because if you don't, she might not be there in the morning .
  Mar 2020 Jeniffer Bermudez
Ann
forever with
you
is always
going to be a
snatched dream.
It is possible to fall in love with a place at first sight
From the first time I came there
I fell in love with this place
Where I always get the peace that I need.
I needed to find a refuge-
My certainties were simply my uncertainties,
Until I met you.
I come to tell you my pain.
As I would say to my mom:
A pathetic but comic refuge.
You are the only interpreter of my silences,
of painful impotence.
My dad says I spend a lot of time with you.
My mom says I'm always sad when I'm with you.
My brothers think I'm depressed because I visit you.
And you, you say nothing.
Because you understand me. You are different too!
The hours pass, the days pass.
These become night and I still got this feeling.
You remind me of my previous lives where I was unhappily happy.
October 8th, the leaves of your trees fall, different colors:
Yellow, brown, red, orange ...
The wind caresses my skin and reminds me of the tea country.
You transport me into a state of melancholy and nostalgia.
January 8th, the light snowflakes fall so silently.
The whispered snowstorm that gives way to sadness and reminds me of the town of Cervantes.
Still in melancholy and nostalgia.
April 8th, new green shoots smoky green, the clouds pass over the youth field ...
I see the leaves trembling, the fresh rains of April.
You remind me of "Pacific pearl".
There is memory, but not nostalgia
...
October 8th, beautiful autumn leaves.
Yellow ones, dries, romantic ones. They fall around:
Wrapping me in silence, bandaging my heart
Healing that wound and massaging the pain.
I don't know if I will live a fifth life, but if I do, I would like to remember you.
You, who listened to me in the silence of pain.
There is memory but not nostalgia.
There is no pain but the wound that will heal.
There is hope in this jungle that rushes me.
And all, thanks to you. To you, dear friend, little sun radiant in the dark.

— The End —