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November 21, 2022
"Mes de los Muertos"

Nothing To Say

By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Nothing to Say

Unhappiness is not being able
to talk to you. It is almost noon
as I fidget on the couch sitting
by myself when I want to speak
to you. It will be midnight soon.

The word will continue to elude
me. In vain I will wait for the right
word or words with all my might.
The days will speed by like
they always do. In the middle of
the day or night I will break my
silence. Nothing I say to you will
change my self-doubt. My head
will spin around and around. In
vain I will find nothing to say to
you. There are no right words.
There is only truth. It is too late
for me. I still want to tell you all
I feel inside. I keep silent waiting

for the elusive word. Unhappiness
is the word that comes to my mind.
I am becoming unrecognizable to
myself. I go into a place of despair
that rapidly devours me. I try with
all my strength to find the word
that releases me, the word that
ends this unhappiness. Replaced,
altered, that is how I feel. Soon I
will be finished off. It is Monday
or Tuesday, it matters little to me.
I text you words that are safe. How
are you? The sun is warm today.
I am sick of myself. These days I
dislike myself more and more and
most of all, I love you more and more.

Article © Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal. All rights reserved.
Published on 2022-02-21
Image(s) are public domain.
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