He worries about losing his hair.

lula avila

He worries about losing his hair.

I mean, i understand, i’m vain too.

But he worries in the way the condemned do.

He waits for it like a death sentence.

“My father is bald, my grandfather was bald”

“My youth will be over, the flowers will dry”

“My life will be over when i’m bald”

“…Voldemort is bald”

 

Meanwhile i’m right there slipping from between his hands like sand.

I wave my hands, jump up and down.

No reaction.

He’s busy googling hair loss shampoos.

 

I leave, i slam the door, he doesn’t even turn.

He’s looking in the mirror, only his image in sight.

Worring.

He worries so much about losing.

Losing his looks, losing his fitness, losing his money, losing his hair…

 

And his hair is still on his head,

but now the room is alone.

The wind has been moving my life again.

lulaavila

The wind has been moving my things again.

My ponytail always messy, my tea cold.

Is it just me?

 

Is it the season?

My fears getting out, my past coming back.

This crazy tornado scrambling up my life.

 

The wind has been moving my things again.

My toys gone, my baby already a girl.

The cold air lifting my skirt, tripping my steps.

Too much dirt in my eyes see straight.

 

I open all my doors, my windows.

He can come in and steal what he wants.

 

I open up a hole on the roof to see better.

How beautiful, an entire life soaring up, up.

Going away.

Goodbye boy bands, heartbreaks, awkward stage!

If it was not fixed to the ground it’s yours…

I can’t wait to work with what remains.

Whatever enough…

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Wish i was mature enough…

Or maybe it’s stupid enough?

Or wise enough? Naive enough?

I need to find it.

Whatever enough i need to be to forgive you.

To stop this hate that keeps coming to my house like giant waves of water.

Breaking doors and windows to get in.

My home got so messy, my room a swamp, i need this enough soon.

Whatever enough i need to be to forgive you.

Before the flood gets inside me too.

And i’m forced to wear the hate for the rest my life.

Nancy in the trees.

lourdes denisse calleja

Tell Nancy she can climb down from up there.

The forest is long gone, we are grown.

She was scared but the monsters are now gone.

It was all in her head, it’s over, her hair is long.

The earth feels nice to step on.

Nancy hiding, from real life in a story tree.

Tell her to climb down.

The forest is gone, is now a river.

Rivers go somewhere, water washes up old dirt.

Come down, we love you, the water is fine.

Bruno and his brother, and that time they were almost one.

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Bruno and Leo, just the two of them.

7 and 9 years old.

A three house were you are not allowed in, just the two of them.

Almost twins. 16 months apart. Used to dress alike.

Bruno and Leo driving their mom crazy.

Two, almost one.

 

Years passed, beards grew.

They became men. Men lie.

Lies splitting skin that used to be sewed together apart.

Money making his way between them.

Lovers making their way between them

Fights, Heirdoms, lies, one missed gunshot, the final barrier.

The goodbye.

 

Bruno and Leo, not twins, not brothers, not friends.

 

Just two tired old men walking home alone after a long day.

 

Bruno and Leo two rich lonely strangers with a scar.

A never fully healed wound, the hole where they once shared wings.

A goodbye.

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