they do not really stay
like change, they flow, there is always an influx
for a time, and then
slowly, the contents are emptied
like a mall that closes at ten p.m.
and you are the last to take the exit
because you have no one to be with
and the one that waits you there
is only your rented room
having the same scent
of an abandoned
rug.
as i once told you
the only best friend we can have
the one that will always be with us
through and through
without knowing the word
fade
is you
not even us, not even them.
so feel at home
hold your left hand with your right
talk to yourself
and do not ever be a stranger again
you know your name
and your favorite things and places
and food
and memories
keep calm. this quiet is all yours
savor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem