Every time they come knocking on my door,
I kick them out,
They come barging in like its their territory,
and I drag them out like garbage bags.
They enter and trespass, and I’m the one who’s charged for ignorance.
The judge sides with them, and I know Life is the name of that judge.
Death befriends me, knowing we’ll be companions soon.
I’m given a deal to admit that whoever’s pressing charges exists,
in return I’ll live peacefully and they’ll let me go.
They’ll be like germs. Everywhere.
I throw the deal at their despicable faces,
and they beat me up till I bleed. Pain.
They want to inflict pain.
Pain is what I’m made of, idiots.
You threaten me, but I won’t budge.
I won’t welcome the emotions that I won’t admit.
I’d rather live in a cell alone than confirm that they exist.
‘- (noun) A Portuguese, untranslatable word romanticizing nostalgia in its purest form. This beautiful feeling captures the yearning for someone or something that you love, which is now lost. It is a melancholic longing.Saudade’s pronunciation varies according to the speaker and country, which only adds to its sincerity and vulnerability.’
I’ve been trying to capture this sentiment and describe it in my own words for a while now, but I’ve been failing miserably. Too many drafts. Too many missing words that could elaborate this beautiful and real sensation, but some feelings are hard to express fully. Difficult to transcribe each and every emotion into words that flow eloquently and perfectly and in complete harmony. This is probably due to my holding back to the sadness I’ve been bottling up and refusing to allow myself to remember all the pleasure I had once felt, resulting in not completely understanding the bitter-sweet yearning for a certain kind of absence.
When you exhale
and the rain comes pouring down,
then the sun shines
brighter than the darkness within you,
and the moon reflects back
the light trapped within your soul.