Mind-murder

My mind keeps wandering 

to places with safety signals,

to places where others have fallen

to places where white flowers rest

upon dead bodies.

My mind keeps asking me the same questions,

of when it will get better,

of when I will find the right words,

of when we will buy white flowers,

of when white flowers will be bought for us.

My mind keeps crying,

at night, when my body is too tired of staying awake,

at night, when my soul has been drenched in sorrow,

at night, when my heart beats too loud within this empty house.

My mind keeps complaining

about the flowers I forgot to water

and the dishes that still wait in the sink,

about the clothes I had to wash 

and the room that has become a mess.

My mind keeps talking

to the body which crawls out of bed in the morning,

to the swollen eyes underneath the make-up,

to the shaking hands that hold coffee-cups. 

My mind keeps invading

my privacy,

and consuming

my capacity to think,
so, today I bought white roses,

and placed them within my mind.

Suddenly, it became silent, all around.

Jehona Thaqi©

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