Retrospect

When you sit in front of the glass

and the water reflects your face,

it is there, looking back at you

as if there was something you hid

from your fractured soul.

so you close your eyes slowly and

feel everything again till your body bends down low

and your hands cover your ashamed heart, protecting it

from your fury, 

from your fears,

from your pain.

your muscles ache,

and a thousand words you should have said

dissolve your skin, reaching yesterday,

withering every inch of you but you resist

the years, the transfixed moments,

the threads love weaved around you

because you are so young and wild:

your ideals come first. your hate comes first,

your country comes first and

it is a passion, a wound, a devotion.

just a few can understand

your disheveled hair and moans.

you don't need life. it is life that needs you.

sometimes you feel less strong

and more grotesque.

it is when the moon rises

and the world is in a drop.

you don't believe in miracles anymore

and today is not enough.

you need twenty years

or maybe what you can't admit

even to yourself.

it is too late to feel the flowers

in your hair but you still feel them

and the hands holding them.

for some minutes life has another name

and you find out a face beneath

your face.

but when you contemplate

the water in the glass,

it is only you so you back off

afraid of your pieces refracted

on it because you are

still there but the form

and the content clashed long ago.

and what you see is so distorted

and frightening.

karla bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2015