The smallest of universes

I had a sea at room that reached the middle of my pink chapped walls. It had dead fish, the corpses of a few people that dropped out of my consciousness along the way and floating letters going each and every way with every wave that crashes from a wall to another.

It had a window that showed me nothing.

It had a broken window that was only good at making creaking noises on a silent night to let me know that I am still alive.

I had a mother. I had a father. I had a lover, that all took different ships and sailed away from me.

I had visions of the virgin marry feeding little Jesus. I had visions of her laughing. Of her , with her head between her hands, thinking of how she would face the world with her little miracle. I had visions of her eyes trying to hide the pride of when her son spoke in his cradling of her teary eyes and wet face when seeing her boy getting crucified for nothing but speaking the truth for serving his creator and hers.

The sun visits to greet the sea without giving a single ray for me. Does she hate me still? Does she still despise for killing her child? I thought she knew better than to loathe someone for defending themselves as she burns whatever that comes her way to keep her glorious reputation out there clear for anyone who'd want to invade her warm little heart . I thought that saw herself how things were not meant to last between him and I. he was not meant to rob me my control was not meant to wake any of my dormant feeling up was not meant to set fire to the cold coals of my soul to leave later for a girl with an ocean rather than a small sea between four walls.

The steps to the living room have drowned. It's wood is weak and creaky . I don't know how to swim so I don't know how to leave. I tried making a land out of the bed but memories were very present upon the mattress. The laughs I shared with the dead is imprisoned in my pillows making It hard to rest my head without feeling something. I always wonder why do people struggle too much to find peace in a world that was created originally for peace to win or is peace just a myth people created in hope for a better day?

Has it ever occurred to him that alluring me with the sound of a guaranteed eternity is dangerous? Hasn't he ever asked his glorious mother what happens when her hot rays hit the freezing snow? It melts! It floods the lands floods my lungs floods my eyes my room my thoughts it floods the world drowns the green with an unwelcome blue.

Adam was created from mud but he was nowhere near dirty .eve was created out of his ribs but he was nowhere near her productivity. She gave birth to colors shapes and sounds she gave birth to virtue and sin. And then she died and left her little girls without so much as a warning that the world is not fair that the strongest is not necessarily but those who get up fix themselves   after every breakdown those who find green underneath the ashes of who they used to call close of the words the regrets of the touches the kisses the fake intimacy they used to be wrapped up with of what they used to call home.

When I was a little kid I used to sit by my neighbor's porch on the blue steps. She would sit next to me drinking silently or screaming hymns. The whole neighborhood hated her while I didn't. I saw how she believed in things how she let herself mourn her losses how she didn't care about my father's occasional insults but only cared about how she'll live how she'll afford a change a haircut in such a state of brokenness and insolvency. I saw her smiling many times a genuine smile that had nothing to do with the smile my mother gives me when I tell her about my school day. She felt things she was intact with her body with the universe. She used to call love sugar coated torture. That she had savored all the sugar and was now left with only the torture not only of her internal conflict but also of being lonely.

She left one morning for an unknown place leaving me a note and the ghosts of her torture: letters to god ,to her ex ,to her mother who passed away, and some drawings in red and black that depict  something only she knows .she left my time one morning to go inhabit someone else's.

I loved Gina and her dyeing flowers her unfathomable paintings her chosen words on her wooden walls and floors. She had left her trace and seeing it I hope my traces won't be swallowed by the sea I hope I don't stick to the salt for much longer. For I had lived before I had breathed I had laughed.

What was dead is dead I am here. I am eve I am marry I am love the sea the ocean I am the universe and a universe can't drown unless it lets its sun go.

I am not letting my sun go.