Going somewhere but not always knowing where
the road is ending
we would speak between the lines, little words from time to time, and sounds that would mark our steps, then our ears full of silence and coming down the hill, we would remember the good old days.
*first published in June 2020, edited in June 2021
I was fleeing without making any noise, nothing cracking, no one could see me. I hadn’t thought of the traces I would leave behind.
...that invites itself anonymously on frail and frozen shoulders, barely out of the ground, already tired of the winter tricks.
We will tiptoe around the truth to avoid disturbing it, we will close our eyes above all, so as not to see the rest, silence is almost better, no one needs to know everything, the the unconscious exists for a reason.