i will talk to despair
since he is my friend
everything will be trivial
nothing serious
about some possible solutions
or explanations
about a tragedy
or death or suffering
and despair will talk to me
like i am his friend too
closer, closer,
that is what i want
despair
to do for me,
and i will
ask him
to write for me
a story
specifically, more about a fantasy,
nothing serious
we will not be talking about
family troubles
squabble over lost fortunes
black sheep
the prodigal son
the molested girl
the wife who serves as punching bag
for the drunkard
hopeless hubby
i would prefer
something about travel and
cuisine
or even money and
women
or honor or awards
or achievements
something that strikes
the lull of my taste-buds
the aha experience
those first times
honeymoon, or victory balls
Christmas parties
mama's reconciliation with papa
first born,
that earthly communion
we will not talk about pain
or separation
or broken homes
or failing to make it in life
those horrible failures
that inability to rise up
from a fall
and i will not
mention
how in those years,
he has hurt me so
badly
like i were not human
anymore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem