Pain

I know the trees are greener in July

and the pretty yellow buttercups

captivate your lonely  heart

and tremors.

You were a child before and

a woman.

I know the winter gale will touch

your  feet and remove

your socks and your tears

but still I am sinking  below the earth.

I bury again and again memories and

longings and unbury them again

in the morning to find only

wet and hard soil

and  against  all logic

I speak about my pain which

is located nowhere  ,does not really live

anywhere, and doesn’t belong to me

but  adopted me so long ago that I live for

it against any logic or reason.

I didn’t kill any man, I didn’t lie

or drown  seagulls or perform

in the theatre.

I could not initiate a revolution or

rounded those generous souls

to strike ,to refuse, to rebel

I only moved around making enough

noise so you could move away

take yourselves apart from me for a while

or forever.

I burdened you solely with my character

with this pain who has not sisters and brothers

which lives perfectly still around the socket of my eyes

which  embellish itself every morning

in front of the mirror.

This pain so ridiculous and frivolous

but hey!  I cannot live without it

has already proved to me

my loyal companion and the

the reason why my world

against all  odds would go on.