Whispers To The Oblivion ...

  Life is, but snow. Crumbling down as you try to hold on firm in fistfuls. And I stare out of my window with blurry eyes shortening breaths, as if it were winter days of Iowa City. The sun shining upon the snow a blazing white light blinding when it hits the eyes I wish everything came to a standstill like the white frosting on trees I wish the struggle were over One day Today at mid-noon? in the evening? Life moves forth Time passes by Pain remains Stubborn. Resilient. I have to shovel the heaviness in my heart I have to dissolve the knots in the pits of my stomach. Please, God, give me the strength to be able to breathe in the next moment.

One December evening, preceding supper, the knife had taken too much of my flesh. I couldn't help losing dexterity on my culinary skills, on all of my life, one crimson drop at a time. The kind doctor had covered my wounds, promised it would heal. And as I lay at night aching every place I wondered who'd bandage my bleeding heart, Who'd promise it will heal?