Poème

o you Know it ?

Do you know this feeling?

This awful feeling...

It calls to you,
and it hurts.

Not because it is the deepest pain,
but because it is the kind you believe
you can carry alone.

And that is the lie.

It is the feeling that whispers in the dark
when you are trying to sleep.
The feeling that crawls beneath your skin,
leaving behind traces of fear:
goosebumps on your arms,
tears in your eyes,
a weight in your chest.

It is the kind of feeling
that makes you scream
in the middle of nowhere.

Because you can bear it alone.

Because you cannot.

It runs through your heart.
It spins through your mind.
It strikes every corner of your body.
Everywhere. Any where.

It hurts because you know
that one day you will fall,
and you will not rise
as easily as you do today.

It hurts because it is not a feeling.
It hurts because it is a memory.

It is a déjà vu.

It hurts because you know
it will happen again.

You do not know where.
You do not know when.
You do not know how to stop it.
You only know that it is coming.

Very soon.

It is the kind of feeling
that leaves a mark forever.

It fades,
then returns.
Again.
And again.

Like waves erasing
a heart drawn in the sand,
only for the sea
to leave room
for another one to break.