"I wonder what will you do without me." With satisfaction I finally announced the latest departure, your pleasure consumed monstrous grin lit up on the cheeks emaciated that still recognize you without a new ground: an opportunity to hurt me, a new bet for the player obstinate, with renewed pleasure and unreasonably bitter although you might experience, for the first time, the insecure. All my life I had ignored the anguish of being human through, even at this t'avevo compensated for mitigating and finally gave up my dissent, collapsing on the compromise, which upheld the failure of Your indifference to any attempted revolt of mine, now buried, expressions. My ears will become deaf were ladies in waiting for your vanity accused of unnatural understanding and compassion you called, and ridiculed, annoyed, upset for what they did not understand, you were right, you never know how much I had learned with-holding-selflessly I was afraid. " But I wore short hair for you, with your long curly red m'aggrappavo, I had always been an extension of your dreams, free thought, swings for my-back-and when the time he had, of necessity, whitewashed me himself that he was certainly unnecessary to find reasons in the natural course of things, rather it was he who t'aveva betrayed, because you had been unfaithful - infidelity-you said to yourself,-was not true, you were not ever been, apprehensive, you always go along as you were the mother yourself, but swallowed the unrest and said nothing to stay beautiful, and then, you, you wanted to talk about for years, keep up the rhetoric of your monologue alcohol, whereas before you had to attend a party without an identity-to-vent begging that much unconditional love and silence, the grant and the bottle almost empty, a little at a time, dissatisfaction'd fall asleep quietly, and then I seemed to find half-smile as he points to the horizon bypassing my need for reward. My truth t'avevano, always anxious and angry, as a child I was a raging river, while my words flowed to every little discovery you withdraw, do not carry such news, and when, at that point, I saw you with a penny on an eye will collect funds to eat. In one of your nights
swollen with wine did you find the clarity to tell me - "life look for someone who is willing to bear the pain that we carry on your shoulder, it's like an identity, a legacy to hand down, I'm giving to the you know you love me enough to do with it the sole guarantor of good that makes us generous. But love is not enough. " Love is not enough, I knew I held my breath and almost could isolate from the world and your certainties, rejected the air, was the only possible revenge killing, I would deny you love escaping my presence, but, finally, remember that the dead are forgotten, and I saw you stroking the walls of your room, with closed eyes told me to listen to the echo of your ancestors, found in your unknown dead from the words of old. I was
mother, son, butler, father, friend, sister, friend, servant. I isolated myself and I showed my loneliness t'accorgessi why not yours, you was funny more than you learned when you needed to learn. Because I umiliai not felt your humiliation.
Even now, entering the house, it seems to me to come and disturb your habits, I still feel like a guest in my house. I chipped dishes, cups chipped and can not give you the most trouble now, I give, I tell a story of which they are only witnesses. The eggs in the fridge you have survived.
I have forgiven the hatred I felt for you. I was able to explain the relief for your death often said that you were removed from future harm, relief for a justice invisible to many. Forgiveness has mitigated the many questions that I have never placed. Did I forgive her for not being happy with me and then I went to look in places that resemble you. I came to the world to satisfy you. The house has changed, not recognizing the new small marks on the walls, floors, but there is a point where the smell is left unchanged, preserved thee. Often, because it takes my fear-May-opinion polls say that suicides increase during the spring so I'm going to pick your strawberries in the garden and find that your order consists of aristocratic and so I see the Spring of others. When I cherish always take care to keep them away from the jam, are habits that I lost, designed to provoke your laughter of superiority. But is not your fault, Mom, it's just that you have not had time to wish for a child, I came in spite of yourself. You told me, often, that many women choose not to be fertilized because they are afraid of giving birth to a Christ.
by the 'gaze enchanted "hosted by Art at the cube in 2010 from 18 September to the cloister of the former high school Gulli and Via A. Pennisi
of Sangiuliano, 15 Acireale, Catania
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