Every year waiting for Christmas

 

Memories with perfumes.

Memories with flavors.

Memories with colors.

Memories with emotions.

Intense and unique emotions that you know you can no longer experience anywhere and ever.

You oscillate in feelings, doing jumps and acrobatics for fear of bringing them back to life.

You try to balance states, thoughts, emotions, feelings so that later through an illusion you can hide them somewhere inside you so that later only you can find them. And, enjoy them.

Like the child of yesteryear.

But there are times when no spell has power.

And, the memories begin to bring you back in a way that is no longer in your power to be able to control them.

Something inside, inexplicably, leaves you no way out.

And stay just as calm and amazed listening to the child inside you.

And you sit like every year waiting for Christmas, you and your memories.

They stir your soul and I would lie to say that I don’t like being with them.

Because they are a part of me and without them I would not be in my universe.

 

by

Schreiben Sie einen Kommentar

Ihre E-Mail-Adresse wird nicht veröffentlicht. Erforderliche Felder sind mit * markiert.

Diese Website verwendet Akismet, um Spam zu reduzieren. Erfahren Sie mehr darüber, wie Ihre Kommentardaten verarbeitet werden .