I should have hung that paper on the wall


His baggage is heavier than mine
and the spirits of the place can't understand
the voice hidden in his pockets
full of biological terms and bookish dreams
anymore
as if there should be a plausible explanation
for everything in life.

We sat down to eat our lunch, trying
to reconstruct meaning out of simple things,
swallowing reality because there is nothing
left to say between noon and one pm
when we don't have to set examples.
(who said I wanted to be an example)

And as time flies, I blame fate again
for my choices and twenty-four years
of regrets and rebelliousness because
it is what still brings me some relief
after the tender comprehension
of life.

He doesn't know but I have been dying slowly
all these years. I won't tell him about what
he has to find by himself. He has just started,
I'm about to finish. I might miss this room,
these faces, this past but I will miss my ideals
the most, especially those which still punch me
in the eye when I stumble upon the system.

I look at my watch and I am ready again.
Who wants to be taught in an incomprehensible grey world?
Who wants to become a conscious citizen?

I should have hung that paper on the wall
just to remind me once of whom I was.
(who I was?)
Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2013 Photobucket

3 comments:

  1. So many can relate to your words, the feeling of being weighed down in a relationship etc. Truly a beautifully written work of art.

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  2. I see this as a moment... a stand still frozen moment... a glimmer into
    our life in the span of time. And yes, we do need sometimes a piece of paper
    on the wall to affirm who we are when we do get lost in the moment. I loved
    this flower... EXALT!

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