domingo, 11 de maio de 2025

mother's day

Era o seu dia.
Mas você não está aqui,
e nunca mais estará.

Meu coração, como sempre,
sangrando,
doendo,
latejando pela sua ausência.

Mas, apesar da dor,
este ano eu decidi não chorar a sua falta.
Este ano eu decidi não sofrer sua perda.
Este ano eu decidi não lamentar esse vazio.


Este ano, eu me rodeei de beleza...

Me plantei no meio das flores,
e lá fiquei, ao vento,
lembrando do seu sorriso,
da sua mão,
do seu abraço...

Este ano,
me deixei cercar de tudo o que acho lindo:
para evitar,
para fugir,
para consolar,
para desviar da dor.





Decidi me esvaziar de mim,
e me encher de beleza,
porque você era tudo
de mais lindo que eu tinha neste mundo.

Você era a soma de todas as belezas,
delicadezas,
a grandeza e a riqueza que eu tinha.


Este ano,
eu me rodeei
e me afundei na terra.
Me plantei.

Fiz do luto meu adubo,
e cravei minhas raízes fundo,
na esperança de, um dia,
desabrochar.


quinta-feira, 1 de maio de 2025

Journey

 

The day the ground was pulled from beneath my feet, I made a difficult decision.
I chose to stand.
Even if I staggered, I stood.

And because I was standing, no one thought I needed crutches.
Learning to navigate a world without ground, I strengthened my arms—
I had to carry the weight of my own body through the spaces.

And because I was strong, they called me efficient.
And because I was efficient, I threw myself into work and gave it everything.
And because I worked so hard, I was seen as useful.
And because I was always busy, I was labeled resilient.

And because I kept going, they placed me in a game whose rules I did not know,
a game I didn’t know how to play.
And because I didn’t know how to play, I bluffed like an actress,
and I swear—I tried on every mask life’s theatre offered.

And because I wore a mask, I became unbearable to myself.
And because I couldn’t bear myself, I gave in, I fell—
I shattered my face, my mask, my teeth,
and my heart, even more.

And because I was broken, I lost my worth.
And because no value was assigned to me, I couldn’t see myself in the dark I was in.
And because there was no light, I wandered lost—
for miles, or years, or galaxies…

And because I was lost, I grew tired.
And because I was tired, I stopped wherever the door was open.
And to be accepted, I smiled while bleeding.
And because I smiled, no one understood the reason for my pain.
And because I kept walking, no one noticed how weak my steps were.

My slumped shoulders gave room for my neck to stretch—
so no one saw I had, in truth, shrunk.
And because I was smaller, I no longer fit my clothes,
nor my beliefs.
And because I believed in nothing, I stopped believing in myself.

And because I didn’t know who I was, I invented a character.
And because I became that character, I finally was who I had always wanted to be.
And because I was who I wanted, I showed up as a clown.


And because I was a clown, I wore my brightest colors,
and clashed fashion with emotion in wild combinations.

And because I was in a circus, no one imagined I was a fraud.
And because I wasn’t real, I soon evaporated and ceased to exist.
And because I didn’t exist, I fit anywhere.
And because I fit anywhere, I could take any shape.
And because I had no shape of my own, I let others define me.
And because they told me who I was, I hated myself more each day.
And because I hated myself, I avoided all mirrors.
And without mirrors, I forgot what I looked like.
And in forgetting, I lost my name.
And without a name, no one ever called me.

And because I was not remembered, I forgot even what I used to feel.
And in that forgetting, I remembered the throbbing pain.
And because I was no longer numb, I screamed, seeking relief.
And because I screamed, they called me crazy.
And because I was crazy, I was shut out.

And because I didn’t fit, I cut pieces off myself to make it work.
And because I wasn’t whole, anything could attach to me.
And because I opened up to anything, anyone could walk in.
And because I was being invaded, I lost control—
lost the locks—
and they broke every latch I had.

And because I wasn’t locked, I was robbed.
And because I had lost so much, I also lost my sense.
And with nothing left to lose, I walked through doors without knocking—
and many of them shut in my face.

And because I was outside, I stopped caring what people thought.
And because I didn’t care, I spoke before I thought.
And because I said what I thought, they took my voice,
and my words.
And without words, I went silent.
And because I was quiet, they deemed me inappropriate.
And because I belonged nowhere, I made myself a disposable ornament.
And because I was discarded, I made myself scarce,
disappearing from the corners of curious eyes.
And because I was out of sight,
I ended up out of minds.


But...
Because I had been so far away,
I could finally hear myself in the echo.
And in hearing myself, I recognized the sound of my own presence.
And in recognizing it, I remembered that I once had a name.
And in remembering, I felt a longing for me.


And in that longing, I drew a new outline.
And in drawing that outline, I sketched a form.
And in having a form, I chose to no longer be just anything.
And because I wasn’t just anyone,
I dared to name myself.

And in giving myself a new name,
I gave myself permission to exist.