She

There is always a dark voice that tells her,

We could have been together..

She listens to them, very carefully. She talks to them, replies to them,

Yes, we could!

Then she cries.

Crying is not that important here.

Crying has always been there

no matter what. In sadness,

in joy, in merriment, in happiness,

in paradise, in hell crying has been a part.

Crying has been in love, in stories apart.

All those love stories are

nowadays are like a torture.

Either they have a good or bad

it doesn’t matter

anymore.

For they are love stories

enough to cry for,

as they remind her

the moments they have been together.

Good moments or bad, they were together

and that’s all that matters to her.

But what about him now? Does he care?

Does he know that he should have been there?

She doesn’t know

even if she tries so hard though

Every time she talks to him, the gesture has always been

this cold, this numb that sometimes she feels

that was there even they had something?

So she tries. Again and again.

To not be weak, to not be suffocated in that feelings.

To be more herself

She tries against herself

so hard that she is not herself anymore .

So in her dreams, they dance, they laugh, they kiss and they cry.

Then she cries.