I Remember

I remember that weird feeling in the mouth of my stomach,

like birds were trying to scape from the burning spark of the sun.

Only a few tears reflected on my checks,

but they were hiding the tsunami inside of me

waiting to come out and destroy everything in its path.

I remember sitting there holding his hand

the same way he hold mine when my eyes were full of terror.

I remember each time he closed his eyes

and the fear on mines that he wouldn’t open them again.

I begged every night to someone I don’t even believe in

to let him get out of this one,

for him to see me graduate,

take me to the altar in my wedding,

meet his grandkids,

just one more day.

I remember the last time he looked at me

and the way I could see through him,

diving in that emptiness

knowing that was the last time those brown eyes would make me feel safe.

My soul crumbled down like the dry leaves in autumn

when he gave his last breath,

and I knew he wouldn’t wake up this time

because he was already immersed in a deep eternal dream.

I remember the waterfall wetting the carpet

and my heart stoping

because a part of it left with him.

The smell of fathoms turning on

like the golden hairs of a star,

blaming him for leaving a cocoon that hadn't even started to blossom.

I remember how hard it was for me to let go,

I had one hand in the past,

repeating to my self “what if...”

and the other one in the future,

scared of what would come next,

leaving me crucified in the present.

The worst part was when time passed by,

I remember forgetting that someone was ever there,

turning me into the only prove he ever in this world.

He left this emptiness in my soul that can only be fulfill with the warmth of his arms covering mine

and this knot in my throat that I would never unleash.

I remember how the clock hands started running

the fire that burned inside of me disappeared in the wind

like butterflies flying away in the cold winter,

leaving behind only the ashes of colorful memories

and the wisdom of a well lived life.