Roller coaster

I am a roller coaster, nobody may have paid the ticket but I am in the front row. With arms raised and shouting to stop, but they tell me that the machine is broken and to wait a while.

I feel good and happy if you smile at me and I can tell you that everything is beautiful. I understand that you want me to smile and tell you about my day.

But understand that from my room I went to the dining room and from there to my bed. That my rule of movement is that of minimal effort and that the tears don’t fall because I spend them in one night.

You ask me to be of lighter and less desperate. However, I spend twenty days without feeling my love for anyone and the water is bread. So on the twenty-first day I give my heart and soul because I feel that I am dying in the overdose of my being.

You beg me to laugh when you go out and talk to friends. Be of good character and better company: "Eat something and you will see that you’ll be better". You put a band-aid and pray to God that today is one of the good days.

It isn't.

Because you have me on the balcony with the cigarette unlit and I want to leave. Although I smile at you and you see that it does not reach the eyes. Yet, you pretend because we are human and we don't know how to talk about apathy.

Is that I am a little decayed and empty, with a negative value for sale and I don't have the will to move my arms.

I know you want me to back to run the square three times and to go out three nights in a row. But, my mind is half asleep and in talks about beds and sleeping between sheets. So tomorrow may be better because not today.

You ask me to try, to take something, to talk a little, that it is only to grow and loneliness, that time has answers: "And please just try". I try to the point that people believe it.

The best friend, the brother and the lover.

It feels almost like I have a life and you celebrate me. You rejoice, you explain that this is living.

You take me by the arm and wrist through all the streets talking and shouting. Check that my smile stays and I'm afraid to tell you that it's already stuck. You laugh when I run and you chase. Denying that my eyes see the roof with desire and there is a dance with the lights.

You are happy, I am happy.

But it feels like a dagger in the heart that writhes and is an attempt that I cannot, nor do I get. I feel like a five years old, unable to disappoint. Thus I smiled at you, I talk to you, I hug you and we're fine. Because that's how you feel and that's how I feel.

T.A.