madness TM











{February 28, 2010}   Last minute thoughts

Feeling the cold floor with her bare feet,

she walked to the lonely only wall, looking to the little pictures staring

at her through those old wooden frames,

she can hear them speaking to her,

blaming her for the loneliness,

counting the empty coffee cups,

watching her ciggarets burn between her skinny shaky long fingures,

watching the smoke disappear into nothingness,

waiting for her to wake up and end her night mare.

She looks back at them with nothing to say,

she ignores heir bleading hess voices,

she steps closer to their faces, dead, motionsless, frozen in time and cold,

she touchs their faces with her fingure tips gently as if she will hurt them if her fingures pressed hard on the old paper pictures.!

she walks a way in silence,

she thinks about all the things and everything ,

she found out how to stop those voices,

the same pictures that used to make her feel gratitude for being a life,

they turn to be a reminder that sometimes some people get chosen to play a role, and hers was to survive the evil of the world and watch the bad defeat the good.

she stepped into her tiny kitchen.

with a little smile on her face and satisfaction in her eyes.

she stopped moving, her thoughts seemed to be steady not shaking like her skinny hands.

she then lit the fire into every little thing that the red flames can eat.

she looked around, proud of her self

she stood in the middle of house on fire,

she stopped there accepting the flames invitation to touch her skin,

she stood there burning with her old furniture , her empty bed and her only lonely wall,

dying with the little pictures for ever.

while the fire creeps on her skin, her hair,

eating a way her inside , she opened her arms, hugging the flames.

in silence she was accepting her chosen fate,

the peace she felt, the silence in her mind told her it was time to go.

And she was gone, she was forgotten, with her pain,

with her sadness, it all went a way with her.

and life didnt stop to grave her loss, neither the sun stopped shining for a minute respect for her suffering soul.

Life went on as she was never there.

and no one to tell her story. Life went on as she never was there !!.



et cetera