the worst thing i have ever seen is the sight
of my grandfather eating small rocks from
the rubbles of his old house. and he will
often refuse to eat something else, because
he says it’s the only way for him to
keep the memories in him,
so that no one in the family will be
burdened by it when he’s gone.
i dreamed of building a home for us.
i thought i’d be able to make it at 17.
but now that i’m 19,
i still don’t feel like starting something
to end this misery, and to comfort my
grandfather, promising that he doesn’t have
to eat small rocks anymore because
no one in the family will
suffer the way he did.
i failed.
last year, i said i’d be
able to buy him a cake on his next birthday.
i failed still.
and i kept on failing.
and i don’t want to be a constant failure,
that until he leaves,
i am still in the middle of constructing
the details of the home that i want to build
in my mind.
but what can i do?
this is just so sad, in my head,
in my heart, in my mind, in my body,
in my organs, in my palms i hold
the urge to build a home,
and also the urge to leave the world
before his turn.
YOU ARE READING
Found This Book Somewhere In The Forest
Poesía"Talk to my soul later midnight, when the moon's at its peak. That's the only way of communication that I know, because my physical lips will stutter if I told you about how I want to tear my human skin apart and go out."
