Eh! You, yes, you!
I've got questions to ask. What can you do for freedom?
What do you call loneliness?

When no one cuddles you and wakes you up in the morning,
No gentle kiss on the forehead,
No shared leftovers,
Is it loneliness or freedom?

The silence is spreading.
A dropped pin echoes through the room.
Fear intrudes on your mind at night.
No one to hold, no one to soothe.

Words are too heavy for the heart to carry.
But there's no one to listen.
The coffee mug remains untouched.
The cookie was unbreakable and unshared.

Is it loneliness or freedom?
The bed remains unrumpled.
The sofa stares back, empty and new brand.
A lottery win, a bottle of wine,
But there is no one to celebrate with.

The daily routine repeats,
solitary existence.
Just you and your mind
Is this freedom, or am I lonely?

Laughter echoes, a haunting sound.
Perhaps I need a pet, not a human body.

#Marixbell
#notapoet

I speak to the sky, despite what they say.
''They say the sky doesn't hear you, old woman.''
I’m not old; my hair was shaved to fulfill a custom demand.
I climb the hill barefooted, with tears in my heart's sight.

I see what others miss; I see perfection in the sky's embrace.
Beauty that's found perfection in my vision's space
Yesterday, I spoke to the sky—not to cry, not to wet Mother Earth with tears.
But to sing as a symbol of sacrifice, to make the sky hear my horn

I'm outside my hut, washing with ashes and stones.
For three days, there has been no sun, just cloudiness and mourning.
But I knew today would bring the sun's warm rays.
I begged the sky to shine, to shine so bright.
To take the sun high, to shine on the mountain

I rinsed my soapy clothes in the gentle fountain stream.
And spread them on the mountain.
I was told not to mix my agony with others's pain.
I never picked this fate; I never wanted it.
I'm the mother of a dead husband whose child looks through windoms.
A constant reminder of the love, loss, joy, and sorrow we endure.
I grieve for my aborted fetus, a pain that never fades.
But still, I'll keep speaking to the sky, despite doubts and fears that invade.

#Marixbell
#notapoet