The Curse Of The Baltics Poem by Monica Melissano

There was only darkness, a black deep sky, and snow mixed with the smell of vodka and thick slippery ice. The Baltic had no mercy, left me with no mercy, totally blind, totally numb. Kill what you love so others wont kill it. Vomit the sickness of your 'real' life on those sweet hands that held you tight and dried your tears. He wont be judged anymore, he wont be blamed anymore. I just walked and cannot remember how and how long I walked on thick slippery ice with the heavy steps of the assassin devoured by the deed just done, and the shaking legs of the suicide. My Ego planned everything carefully to not leave any way out left. But who cares? If we're lost, if any sense of future and any hope is lost...who cares? We had pretended we could take care of each other...we wanted...but what's the point in a lighthouse when you have no boat to reach it? So I froze, I tore down my lighthouse and my shelter. Here there is only snow and Im laying here and throwing my bones into the snow. Words are liars. Only eyes are not. I have no idea how I recognised the street of the hotel through white flakes and alcohol in that iced empty night.
I locked the door.
It was early December, one year ago, and I was ready for the nothing. To see him bleeding too, to see the shaking legs of the suicide on his gentle, dear body too is what kept me away from the nothing. Its one year now and that thick layer of ice has to melt if springtime exists, or we'll be his prisoners forever.