Pain

I know the trees are greener in July

and there will not be any yellow buttercups 

to captivate your heart

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

 doesn’t belong to me,

but  adopted me so long ago

I didn’t kill any man

or drown any seagull

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 

take yourselves away from me

for a while, forever.

I burdened you solely with my character