VidaKashizadeh

What is it

that makes it hard

to utter

the words

that make the difference

between solitude

and an undemanding caress

round words

in an angular world

a hand enc irc ling a forearm

words turning to steam

c reating echoes

that sound like

‘thank you’

or

‘lovely’

foretelling

sighs

No intentions

just being moved

but where to?

when the air is scarce

and the room is steam tight

what

but to get out

then looking back

so it was

just another soc ial evening

past

gone

and then

another friendless night

back in my square room

with all these round feelings

floating like balloons

hitting each other

in front of my eyes.

I can manage I know

but why ?

when I’m here

no one is missing

and somewhere else

no one is missing me

but why ?

Am I a descendant of apes

turning to an owl ?

Are sad stories that painful

or is it I

being so weak

Are ruins that habitable

or am I

to move out

what is it

that makes it so hard ?

It’s not what

It’s who

It is

I

Vida Kashizadeh