By Andrea D. Garzon
Aren't you tired right now?
No, not the kind that stems from physical work.
But the one that's from thinking and feeling.
Thinking of what tomorrow could bring
Or even just what to do in the evening.
Feeling of what the others might be feeling
Or what your friends could be hiding.
This state is like a limbo of uncertainties.
I sat here in front of my computer trying to write.
I couldn't find the exact words but it's cathartic
To write, to express, but not trying to be poetic
Isn't it that when we are having intense emotions
Overwhelmed by a sudden burst of abstraction
We resort ourselves to art though unsure if we can
Not as artists but just as humans.
The conviction is there
You can get through this
But just in what way?
Quite difficult to even think about
Or to even think about how others
Are thinking about it?
You know sleeping won't breed an answer
But it is tempting; a luxury to not care.
And what knowing the words to express
Of what you're feeling inside can do?
You're hopeless, helpless
At least not yet senseless
Then, should you feel blessed?
Is it really okay to lay down one's arms
And rest safety on someone else's palms?
I tried to think about the pain
But the pain isn't there
I tried to think again
But then again, it's a problem I can't see.
Now, I think of my guards
Of my armors, of my guns
And I realized that I actually had none.
And so, I rest myself on the hope
That tomorrow is not yet gone.
A hope that is like a swallow
Sitting on power lines
Looking like crows waiting for a pyrite
To catch its sight and take on its flight.