I don't know about you,
or the amount of pain you carry
or left,
all I know is how time grinds us equally
on our bones, this earth, our breathes
evaporating briefly
--and the hunger.
All I need to know is you are here
too very much alive with me
some time.
Maybe you are blind
but at least your heart is also troubled.
Maybe you are impaired,
but your mouth can speak of love.
Or hate.
It all matters what you crave.
In my time I learned to give up what I am,
all the things that took more of space
and gave others worry in the brain.
I learned to breathe the minutes.
I counted when you left me.
I record all things in my feelings.
More than sentimental pride, I gave up on life,
on trying to be more than I am.
I just sit now and enjoy the silence
upon the autumn leafs changing
hearing others walking.
10.09.2022
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