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Jun 2019
Hear the sound of a far gone chime.
Hear it mixing with some romantic poem you read
the night you couldn't sleep;
the night you thought you'd take your own life,
then gazed at the moon shining in some new way and went back to bed.
Hear the sound of the body lying next to you.
His tangled hair.
Feel your nails creaking on the wall.
Feel yourself crawling into some stranger's sheets, like a parasite, a disease.
See your mother cutting the meat on your plate,
watch her door shut in your face.
See your lover cutting your flesh,
then walking away from you.

What have you become?
Have all of your pieces come together?
Throw them in the air like confetti, let them fall on your head, watch them build up,
late November leaves in a puddle of mud.

I grow old, I grow old.
Do I?
Puzzled.

Cradle me with lullabies
Tear my heart down with goodbyes.
I am young, I am old,
swirling water on my tongue,
crying speechless tears of pain,
speaking languages in vain.
Though we walked our roads this far
we never figured who we are.
Written by
Valentina Piro  19/F/Italy
(19/F/Italy)   
564
 
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