#Balkanblues, poetry by Lucretia Lixandru at Spillwords.com
Kristina L



written by: Lucreția Lixandru



the future is made of all the things
one won’t believe could ever happen.
a crystal ball that’s been broken
and glued together once again
for the last act of the play

keep it in your hands
look at your reflection, it’s
just as broken as the real you,
the one
you only keep for yourself and the spirits
in the sleepless nights

the future is reaching 30
in a room full of people you feel safe being around
whilst the voice of the blood
has been silenced

it is
about laying on the grass at 35 degrees in July
and not caring about the world coming
to an end. your world has already ended
so many times, yet still
it found a way to come brand new again,
to catch a second breath and come alive

the future is watching me in the face
and telling me that I’m gonna die one day too
while I laugh and catch his eyes. maybe,
but the past has already killed me so many times
that it became a custom over here. in these places
the life gets wasted and the death gets ignored,
God has died before even being recognized
by his very own father and
as long as one has coffee, bread and rakia
there’s no rule under the sun, other
than the rulling of nothing
for one to understand and accept as long
as they can have today’s food, gossip and laughter
under the killing sun

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