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Letter from a prison
I've lost the count of my years immersed in the darkness of
prison, so deep the cold in its walls that oppress myself and my feelings till
they are absolutely devastated.
I want to remember, from the shadows that
wrap me every night, the freshness of your face, your skin so soft as cotton and
your kisses kisses, how do I miss your kisses!, within my days and nights I
dream of you, here you never know whether or not you have woken up or whether
you are still sleeping live dreams within dreams.
To be imprisoned, makes me
think, about the walls I built around myself, in my own hemisphere. Do you know
why?, to live here alone, knowing I will never be able to leave.
I think a
lot, I have a lot of time to think, my wounds have healed, but the ones I have
caused will never heal, because I had been possessed by this powerful mental
drive, with this uncontrolled rage, that mercilessly filled with death; I can't
change what I have done, I'm sorry, I know that regret is not enough, I just
want to cry, but my eyes can only cry because there are no tears in
them.
Sometimes, I just want to live to see you one last time, to find in
your eyes our past, our beginning, our passion, but I know you don't want to see
me again.
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Consiga Grafía Furtiva = Furtive Writings de Graciela Fioretti en esta página.
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