Let The Sun Beat Through The Clouds

It seemed to be another day, a simple Tuesday.

From the bed, I watched the clock located at the corner of the bedroom.

It was almost 11 o'clock. 

I had been the entire day feeling ill.

I was so sick for being in bed. 

I was tired and I had abdominal pain.

I was starved, but I couldn't eat.

(I felt so sick that I couldn't even eat an apple nor drink a glass of milk.) 

I felt I was electrified, hanging on a cross made of fire. 

I just wanted to sleep, but the pain was so destructive. 

All my nerves were too aware.

All my thoughts burned my mind.

I was febrile and I started to hallucinate.

I wasn't able to catch a single piece of a dream.

Suddenly, my ears bled with this song of R. E. M.

(I love you madly, just keep watch). 

As I was finally falling asleep, the telephone roared in the bedroom.

I woke up, abruptly. 

The bedroom became a time bomb and my heart was about to explode.

The bed was like a land mine and my body was gunpowder.

(I love you madly, just keep watch).

While the telephone roared, I felt some kind of energy irradiating my soul. 

Suddenly, I thought 

"It's not impossible to have a crush on the telephone..."

"Who's this?", I asked.

And then...

It was YOU.

YOU.

My lovely young idiot baby

(she used to say "Don't you call me adorable, 'cuz I feel that I am Thelma and that you're Garfield!") 

YOU.

YOU.

YOU.

My most terrible passion

(the very first time we kissed, she said "I'm a pretty good slut!")

YOU. 

YOU. 

YOU.

YOU.

YOU.

YOU.

I won't write your name.

(You don't even deserve so)

YOU appeared on the telephone.

Like old times. 

Your soft voice.

Like vanilla ice cream in the middle of the summer.

(I love you madly, just keep watch).

Your infantile voice. 

Like Tinker Bell scratching at the bottom of my heart. 

Your evil way of thinking.

Like a silly speech of an evil politician.

Your bitter way of thinking of me. 

Like a broken TV spitting suicidal messages to the audience.

Your awful way to be.

Like a frozen woman healing thru the cruelty.

(I love you madly, just keep watch).

YOU turned my memories into ashes.

Like that book of Petros Márkaris I gave to you.  

Like that live show of Kurt Cobain you gave to me. 

Like that old song I only play on guitar on sunny days.

Like that old blog I only post on every other day.

You started to tell me things about your boyfriend.

When you suffocated me, I started to ask you for one last chance.

"Well, I'll call you soon...", you sentenced and then hunged up the phone. 

YOU