I break my pattern
and reduce the restriction
of obsessive attention
to a particular
schedule or behavior,
because if I want to
I can do it now or later,
take the time to savor
the flavor of the moment
because I own it
and not the other way around.

This type of freedom is profound,
and easy to achieve
even though it frequently eludes.
Obsessions frequently intrude rudely
and take more time than
I care to admit to.

The world may be
very close to ending
or not,
but my life is all
that I really got,
so I will greedily
hoard my individuality
and liberty to see and perceive
that strings that seem to direct me
and sever them immediately.

I get stuck too,
because
sometimes
I wonder
what to say
when I
myself have not finished my waiting,
my obsessions, my doubt, ...
and when I finish it,
how will I be able to advise you?

How I can be sure?

When, still, all my obsessions
and commitments
go hand in hand.

I don't know,

Honestly,

Sometimes,

If these words are not superfluous,
Forgive me for announcing you
That you have your own life,
Wait for it!
As she waited for you …

How much more pills do I have to take?
To even feel a thing, a glimpse of hope or anything? The days pass so quickly and I always wonder why, I don’t stop to smell the roses or point my face towards the sky, I never even try. I’ve become comfortable in my sadness, though I hate it so. My depression, my madness and obsessions is all I really know.

Within
stirs a persistent bane

birthed
while on her Mother’s knee

Now her bones
grate against the chair
amid her rhythmic rocking
that breaks the dim silence


Images reverberate

on the back walls
of her mind

Disquietude prompts alarm

as her obsessions claw
to unearth graves

of fears

she pretends are invalid

Her desire to flee

from reminders of falsehoods

and fake passions

nags her endlessly

like unforgivable sins

haunt a cloistered sister

Neither pleas, nor prayers
quell her ruminations.

The roses bloom around a house
Reaching over the roof and into the clouds
The thorns pierces the windows
And the roots becomes the floor I stand on

The living room becomes uninhabitable
With glass shattered on the sofa,
The TV split into two
And the air becoming unbreathable

The kitchen is full of insecurities
With rotting food in the fridge,
The missing knifes found in the tub,
And the family table with lost chairs

As a family we protect a single room
The walls are covered with mirrors
Gifted invincibility by our imagination
We stare at our reflection in wonder

Our shoulders are back
Confidence in our eyes
Our head is held high
And into the clouds

We became lost in our protection
Unable to see what is below
Until the dark and bright clouds part
Allowing the star to pierce the sky

It's is a fact that when there is more light
Our shadows become fed
Growing darker than before
And whispers into our ears

We believed we were giants
Taller than our house
And one with the roses
Wanting to seek the blue sky

Instead we trapped ourselves into the clouds
Becoming lost children
Who ignored the open window
And got pricked by a rose

We were smaller than our disguise
Once there was nothing left to compare to
Light shun into the room of mirrors
Leaving a broken family in sight

But we were all addicted
To the beauty of the roses
Who petals became clouds
And the stems that became ladders