Life was normal
Or so I thought it was
But is it really normal or fucked up?
No one really knows what comes in their path of “destiny”
Unless you are a psychic of course or as my Wela called them, Walter Mercado.
…I miss her…
Crying every second of the day Dry tears Silent screams Reaching out for hugs in the empty air
I miss them all.
My life stopped in 2008
A piece of me died when they did.
One after another
The eldest son
Piece by piece
The jigsaw puzzle that is my heart
Began to fall apart
The pieces dissolving in the empty air
Almost everything reminds me of them.
I regret not going to their funerals.
The last moments with each one of them were priceless.
Wela and me chatting about nonsense and watching her novelas, and cooking with her.
Welo and I looking at each other when I came for a surprise visit from NYC and he smiled with so much content.
My father looking at me with unconditional love when I visited him a few months before he passed away.
Life leads you in many directions.
How did I know that the one I took
would have so much tragedy. (rhetorical)
Sitting on a white leather couch, sweating in the hot summer heat in Cordoba, Argentina
Another country, same shit.
Endgame: Life sucks, so enjoys the happy moments…if you have any.