Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Going to work

Going to work. 
Tight black tie on the clean shirt. Wearing the brow jacket that makes me look more respectable.  
I tried to comb my hair but the breeze throws it on my face.  
It is getting cold now with the moist sidewalks making reverence to a silent and shy approaching winter.  
It makes no sense now.  
How can something so perfect be so inappropriate?  
How can this be the only truth about what I know for my life?  
breath and tides. 
all beyond my arms now.  
So a miserable man makes money and plans… God knows lately I’ve done this. 
Effort and desire. 
It makes no sense now.  
One more time… I am leaving a woman behind. 
……. having absolutely nothing bad to say about her.  
Only because I can’t reach the core of what should be touched: I declare waist of us and end of a dream.  
Coming back home by the same sidewalk. This cold breeze opens MY jacket while I pass MY hands over MY forehead and neck. MY MY MY.   
Her words aren’t to be expected anymore.  
I am arriving home, changing clothes and counting the money I got.  
What difference does it make?  
I tell you what:  
It makes no sense now.  
And this is the only difference I can see between me and all the mistakes left behind.  
I am the one that makes no sense. Mistakes have great logic and reason to exist. 
Should a beautiful woman listen she didn’t do anything wrong and will be loved after being left for no reason… and do not think it is a lie?  
It isn’t a lie.  
I release you.  
You are free to forget me before I destroy us… making you my slave, because this is what I know to do.   . 
——————————— .