I feel like I live every day for the sake of living.
\nThat I take in air, but feeling that there is no oxygen that is not harmful to me.
\nI feel like I am in a body,
\nwith a mind,
\nwith chaos.
\nI can't get out of.
\nI don't think I belong here.
\nI don't think I belong here.<\/p>\n
I once read that we all, to a greater or lesser extent, need to feel that we belong to something,
\nor someone.
\nBelieve.
\nNot feeling (or at least as acutely) that Sunday night loneliness.
\nThat makes you realize how bad you really are.
\nFeeling tucked in, even if it is with dirty patches that damage and cause more discomfort for the remnants that you are and you are.
\nBut tucked in.<\/p>\n
The truth is, I don't feel that way.
\nI don't feel like I belong.
\nNot even me, because I don't even manage to (re)know myself amidst so much darkness.
\nI have too many screams knotted in my throat.
\nToo many words that turn into lava.
\nAnd they burn.
\nAnd they numb and petrify me.
\nI have been rejecting what I see in the mirror for too long.
\nAnd a long time thinking that I am nothing.<\/p>\n
It is a feeling that stuns me, it stings me.
\nIt breaks me (more).
\nI have behaved irrationally,
\nI have been (and still am) disoriented, not knowing which streets I am crossing.
\nAnd if they will take me somewhere or it's just another day where I'm getting everything wrong.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I feel and see everything and everyone far away.
\nAlmost impossible to achieve,
\nalways with the \u00abanother time\u00bb.
\nThat never happens.
\nSometimes I think this is not my place because I still believe in trying a little harder.
\nDespite the fact that everything is rigged,
\nor there is no repair of the fault continues.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I think this is not my place.
\nSimply because when the swallows return to the balconies.
\nI want to return to their starting point and be one of them, to have the opportunity to taste the sky.
\nAnd in turn
\nto run away and not look back.<\/p>\n