patricia aira

Maybe I had too much red wine. You're starting to glow in my eyes. I can't help but smile, "You took my basket."

"Huh?"

You did. You really took my basket.

"All my life, I've been carrying this basket on my back. It's a basket filled with unnecessary stuff. All the bad kind I thought was part of who I am."

Never once did you look away. Listening to me and what my wine filled brain has to say.

"You took my basket, hand it over to me, and made me slowly throw away what is in it. One by one."

This is so easy. The way we talk. It's the most wonderful thing for me. I say what I have to and you reply, not necessarily with words, but you reply.

I don't remember a thing about the movie we just finished. I can't help but smile. I like your eyes. Those eyes have calmed a ton of shit storm in my life.

slam so hard and heavy right in the center of my being

that when you run pass through me,

For someone who doesn’t like small talk, my brain seems talk a lot. There are too many thoughts that are recurring in my head. It is always one step, two steps, ahead of me. Nobody asks for my opinions but I want to tell them anyway. These thoughts may be healthy or unhealthy so I am forcing to vomit them here. I hope you don’t mind. We all have our limits, I have reached mine.

“The truth is difficult to accept, that’s why people lie. “

I don’t agree. I find it easier to accept when there is nothing I can do about the situation. You can’t change the facts. The truth, even if it’s so difficult to accept is the truth. It will hit you hard once said but in the long run, is easier to accept. 

“I don’t love anymore.”

"I don’t like to do what you want me to do.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I think we should tell the truth. It is better to hit them with the truth than repeatedly hurt them with tiny little ball of lies. 

I'm not.

I look at your tiny little fists and think of the human anatomy,

is that how tiny your heart should be?

Cold little feet kicking but too weak to walk,

let out a cry because you can't talk.

How can one thing mean all the beautiful words,

Oh tiny thing, my heart's about to burst.

The world is beautiful, I pray that you see.

All the wonders of life, discover and feel.

I have but one wish before I sleep tonight,

I hope my heart never withers and I hope I never tire.

For I want to be there for your every smile.

Oh dear, I'll sing you a lullaby.

Goodnight.

My love, I'll be here, just cry.

Goodnight.

Darling, come rest and breath.

Goodnight.

For tonight, I'll stay let's sleep.

Even writing this is a struggle because in here, I will state what I've been denying, in hopes that soon, I'll accept.

My silence can't be read by the people around me. I can't accept that even the people who have been there since my first cry don't know how my silence is my scream and cry for help. It's not their fault and it's me being selfish of those who want to know what I feel. I always thought that what I feel is petty. What I feel is not that important compared to what others feel.

I closed myself with possibilities of meeting people because I was afraid that I wasn't interesting. "Going out" is never an option for me not because I have strict parents, but because I put up a wall that says "No Fun Beyond The Border". Maybe it's all in my head. Maybe my definition of 'fun' isn't the same as others and I need to learn to accept that that's okay.

I lost touch with myself. I was too harsh on myself. I didn't allow myself to feel, to cry, to speak, and to admit. I was the friend who supports all the time. The friend who had good self-love advices. But I was not that kind of friend to myself. I was the worst relationship I had.

My heart's been heavy since the year started and I need to change that. I can't go on and miss out on the beautiful things the rest of the year has. I decided to start seeing good in things again because I can't handle myself anymore and only I can gradually change that.

I look at where your heart is because it was what I desired. How beautiful would it be if I also let you know mine.

When we walk on the street, you walked backwards just to look at my face, I didn't really know that little gesture until now, we're near the end of this race.

You have the tiniest mole on your cheek that becomes distorted when you smile and a faded birthmark on your wrist that looks like a wrinkled leaf.

I know the color of your eyes when they catch the light when we're outside basking in the sun and how you close your eyes to feel the warmth.

I felt your heaviness that one night when you told me it was too much. I held you 'til you stopped and said, "Can you please stay 'til the morning comes?"

You looked so peaceful as you slept after all that has happened. Did you feel my hand memorizing every crevice of your face? It felt sad because soon, I have to forget.

I'm sorry for all this, I have to let you go. I am at war with myself and I have to go through it alone.

How selfish would I be to keep you from the possibilities of this world. Go on and see for yourself the beauty you have on hold.

For now, let's live good lives and love truthfully. And in time, we'll see, we grew up and let it be.