Rotting in bed for three days now.
I was thinking about all the whys and hows,
trying to find an answer.
Maybe if I get up and complete a couple of tasks,
I can beat my temper,
which I always had at the end of the day,
when I realized I missed out on this day too, when I pray.
But today,
I looked deep into my iris in the mirror,
and told myself
today is the day that will differ.
only if I start and be consistent,
everything would be clearer.
Perhaps even by the end of the year,
I can make her proud, my mother.
This time I'll try to stay stuck,
hoping that eventually I'll get my luck.
God will hear the sound of my heart
and provide a bit more strength for my worn out arms.
Over time,
I will reassume to pray at night
from deep inside my lungs,
an opportunity for me to regain the control of my years which was anything but young,
And in the future I know I'll be glad i tried that day when the alarm has rung.
I'll throw every piece of darkness holding me back to the bin.
And as Liza Minnelli has sung,
Maybe this time
Maybe this time I'll win.
