Me, and the trees

I always longed to make my roots somewhere.

To feel I was belonging at some place. With the convention I could find peace when in a precise spacial delineation in the universe, coordinated by geographical points;

And nowhere else.

Then life suddenly revealed to me: If I had to have roots, I would have born a tree. And I am ah human instead, when I wake up in the morning, I have to stretch my arms: the branches I possess unraveling towards the up above, the undiscovered, the infinities possibilities! Collecting the oxygen that makes my blood running, faster;

Myself, feeling that I am living and not just alive.


Number 21

Finches melting,
the knot of longing arms,
band now my waist,
squeeze me
with your care.

I am riding
the glass line
of the Equator.
pour me wine,
let me clean
the corner of your chest,
you did not bring
any armor.

Turn my face,
point at my lobe,
suck out
the thoughts about you
this skull
is trying to conceal.

My forehead staining the window:
pointing at
patchy meadows,
smeared clouds,
touchy mountain ranges;
still I am overjoyed.

Just because I know
that this
is a prelude to you.



Number 20

     I’m standing already
     I didn’t see you coming
Do you want me here?
     What am I now?
Can I hold your hand?
     Please go, bring your affections with you
     I don’t need any
Are you angry?
     It is my face, it can’t wrinkle in a smile
     Why does it hurt
I brought you chocolate
I brought you an addiction that doesn’t bleed
     I am sick and tired of compassion
     Please wake me up
Do you think you are the only one?
Don’t you think I’ve thought about it too?
     I didn’t consider the now
     Now that it all returns back to me
I mean I’d never, I guess
Did you mean it?
     How fun
     It’s sunny today
Please let me believe you were asking for help
     It feels warm on the tip of my nose
I would have come anyways
     And it is November
I would have swiped your troubles away
     I thought it was winter already
I would have at least tried to
     Those flowers next to my bed
     Have no roots
Try to let me in
     You are not my family
Yes! Look at me
     I feel cold now
Don’t ignore me
     Get me the blanket
Why did you give up
     Those blank spaces
Take, you are shivering
I still need to fill
It is never too late
To be happy again
     With more chapters of a life
     I am afraid to continue


Number 19

My dad as Donald Trump
threatening the world to a massacre
My dad
pressing on the acceleration pedal
when me and my sister
are afraid of the wind
of the hair on our eyes
preventing us from seeing clearly
the car in the opposite lane
heading towards us

Number 17

Overcoming the present to reach it,
now that the moment is steady,
under the afternoon summer sun,
while you find yourself jointed onto the grass,
part of the circular whole.

Consider your little being,
– the sky is so beautiful
Reach it and love it,
then think it,
shout it loud,
“I’m gonna die now!”

And while lingering on the wavy poppies,
you’ll feel your heart bursting in your throat,
that you did not.