21/11/2013

Home

It's 4 in the morning and I just lighted up my cigarette. 
A fat cat is rubbing around my bare feet, and two cockroaches share a bit of sugar  next to the coffee machine. 
I just stoped crying in a full apartment of people that I knew and forgotten, in one of the biggest capitals in Europe. 
I blow my nose. 
I take another drag of my fag. 
I kill those cockroaches. 
The cat leaves. 
Someone is snoring. 
I wanna go home, to a place that's not really my home. I wanna be there arguing, dancing, kissing, hugging, enjoying a smoke, watching a movie or making plans for the weekend with him. 
I finished my fag. 
Also my sanity.
My patience. 
I want a spliff, I want a sleeping pill, I want something to stop these thoughts that electrocute my mind. 
Another cockroach shows up.
I kill it.
There's another one on the cooker. 
It's full of these little fuckers here.
The fat cat is taking a shit, I hear him in the bathroom, messing up with his litter box.
The neon light is making a really annoying sound that gets louder and louder.
The fat cat comes back. 
It sits in front of me and waits for me to pet him. 
The cockroach is on the coffee machine, and the sound is getting so loud, I think it's gonna pop. 
It stops.
The cat leaves.
The cockroach is somewhere I can't see it. 
My fag stops burning.
It's so silent that my thoughts could wake up the entire block of flats.
My feet turn purple from the cold floor.
Tears start falling on the same cold floor. 
The fat cat comes again and meows so silent, that's telling me a secret. 
I don't get it, but I promise her I won't tell anyone. 
The neighbour upstairs is probably having a glass of water. 
"Chill. Don't think too much."
A person from home told me this tonight. 
It's a guy that no matter what I say to him, about him, do to him, he's still there and dares to call me a friend. 
A person that no matter what he says to me, about me, do to me, I will always call him a friend.
I light up another cigarette and focus on the smoke. 
I think of someone I lost, that's just dust. 
Her memory faded away in this apartment. 
I hear her voice in my head telling me to stop worrying, getting upset. 
I want her to be here. 
She is here, probably as a few pieces of hair somewhere under the wardrobe. 
I wanna go home. To a place that's not really home. 
But he's home to me. 

03/11/2013

You didn't.

Have you ever thought of a world that's just yours?
Have you ever thought how easy it would be to not feel the cold outside, on a November night?
Have you ever thought how it would be if the past would stop chasing you for a moment? 
Have you ever thought of stop loving, involving, destroying something that's not yours?
Have you ever thought of healing someone else's soul?
Have you ever thought of walking in someone else's shoes?
Have you ever thought that this cigarette in your hand would burn out in the same place as all the others?
Have you ever thought of the people you hurt?
Have you ever thought in understanding who hurt you and why?
Or why would you hope for a better day in what you call tomorrow?
Have you ever thought of how much it hurts for other people to not reach home?
Have you ever thought of not being able to call any place on earth "home"?
Or why would I open myself to you?
Have you ever thought of a place that people will always wait for you to come back?
Have you ever thought how many pieces of sand you have in your bag?
Have you ever thought of how many places you've seen in your life?
Have you ever thought of how many times you would be let down in your life?
Have you ever thought of how many things you have to lose when you leave?
Or how many fags you've smoked in your life? 
Have you ever thought of how many spiders never meant to hurt you, but died?
Have you ever thought of how many times in your life you've disappointed the ones you love? 
Have you ever thought how many beers you had this summer?
Have you ever thought of just letting go of everything you have for something that you thought it's better?

I did.