Remembrance

 In remembrance of me,

I am constantly thinking of you

how happy you made me

I can't tell you because I am afraid that will hurt you.

I have to live in the now,

but the melancholia is hunting me

like an old friend I used to know

who was constantly judging me.

Remembrance can be hunting

like a dream that follows you constantly

a surrounding haze that is invading

every part and vacuum despondently.

Blue skies

 It is a peaceful life,

now that the airplane lines are gone

we just need to survive

with what was left and our own.

No more white lines crossing the sky

no more distractions from the real pain

we have to make the blue sky our ally

or everything would be in vain.

Help me understand

 How does this make you feel?

Do you want to talk about it?

Is avoiding it turning you into steel?

or is it the only way you know to cope with it?

Help me to understand what happened

and how I can help you

Help me to understand how you finished so saddened

and how I did that to you

Same eyes, different colors

They were warm and welcoming

not so long ago

They were an open sky inviting

smiling on the go.

Beautiful eyes spreading happiness

hugging from their high castle,

now, there is only emptiness

and everything is a hassle.

All that wonderful warmness 

has gone with the wind,

time brought coldness

and messed up the mind.

The icy eyes were once deep blue

as an ocean inviting swimmers

while hiding the dangerous true

and the shameful sinners.

Why are we not aiming higher?

 When I see you so focus

so concentrated

when I hear you creating an opus

so fascinated.

It is only you and the music

you and the black and white keys

completely in sync

and in perfect ease

I wonder why you are not aiming higher

you are so talented

and you are still trapped by a spider

in a web of false charmed

Your melodies are poor magic

just you there playing your creative music

attracting all the feelings that are pragmatic

it is fundamentally therapeutic.

You could do more, get more

you could touch the sky

and even Mars and further explore

but you stay there, so shy.

I just wonder why?

all that talent wasted,

locked in a room

for only 1 person to enjoy.

My age

 I used to be the youngest one,

the one that was obviously junior

and had to jump and yelled to get noticed

and even more to get her opinion heard.

But youth is so volatile

and in a flash is gone,

nevertheless,

that sensation never went away.

Even as a senior and with years of experiences

I still have to push to get my voice heard.

My age was an obstacle, 

for being inexperienced.

Now, older, my age is still an issue.

I am not the "young lady" anymore,

but I am still treated likewise.

I got asked how old are you?

in a professional setting followed by

you can't have all this experience?

you can't be this old...

you can't already have a PhD, etc...

Why is my age wasting our time?

Who cares how old I am?

When your actual age and your appearance turned into an interesting topic?

What is the meaning of this age-related questioning?

If you look younger you will get tested to prove your actual age,

you will get tested to prove your knowledge,

your expertise, your value... you.

At least I have a window

 To be grateful is to be happy,

or to be happy makes you grateful...

being thankful is the best therapy

that makes your insides beautiful.

I am grateful I have a window

even in the darkest days

I can feel the warm light coming in from the window

like answering all my prays

Thinking about homeless people

or the ones living in a basement or in a cardboard house

makes me gloomy and sad feeling for these people

and even more grateful that at least I have a window in my house.