Stitched Heart. Poem by Sara Iglesias

What was never said cannot be revived,
Thoughts that were comfort and relief
Among so much despair,
You were all the unfinished drafts,
Bits of ideas,
Sliced and arranged to the main course,
Dried roses in between pages,
To decorate,
What once was
A diary of drawings, quotes and desires.

Of you, I thought
In a hellish classroom of trance and eraser dust
On a smoky night were nobody is sure
In dirty streets smelling of piss and rum
In the mob of people, apathetic and lost.

You were the protagonist of Utopian dreams,
Reality and mirage,
An accelerated heartbeat,
a race to be won fast,
You were muse and light,
Inspiration for stories,
crushed and strangled
Like a pig's body in a slaughterhouse
Makes words useless,
To the taxidermy of what is beyond repair.

Denied by my mouth,
Crying you out with my soul and guts,
You are the burning desire,
that springs from within me
The blazing heat of the entrails of my being
Through your eyes, the indescribable appears
With patched hopes
and a stitched heart.