thunderstorm
The streets lights are fading, agonycally shading my window and the most of my façade. The thunderstorm has dispossesed them form their only attribute and they are dying miserably amongst the consternation of nocturnal walkers and the rejoicement of secret meetings. Night has fallen darker than ever and the elderly become concerned about the lost of our values, as if lost in the darkness we all were to forget our humaninty and become the animals that we once were. As if it did really matter if that happened. As if it were completely wrong to become emancipated from the constraints of culture. As if.
And then, amidst the thick obscurity, I saw your eyes. Distractedly gazing towards my window, unconsciously looking towards the place that not so long ago you inhabited. I saw you, but you didn’t see me because I was hiding (coward) behind the curtains that you made. I was hiding (stupid) in the bedroom where we shared our love.
Somedays we believed that our love would last for ever. Other days, we could feel the end of it just getting closer to our fingertips. But it all went too fast. One day we were lovers, the next day haters.
The judge gave me the house and you took the baby away from me, but you wanted the house and I wanted the baby: the absurdest of revenges, preferring to be unhappy before conceding any happiness to the other.
Now that the hate is gone, I miss you. But I don’t know how to win you back.
