M&M’s for especially bad wounds.

September 10, 2012 - 2:52 pm 1 Comment

Por Mariana Michelsen*

He dreamed of freedom birds.
And had no secrets,
He was just a kid at war, in love.
He carried his fantasies,
And he went down under an exceptional burden,
Which made it harder on the way.
Is there any meaning in life that
Inevitable death awaiting does not destroy?
A person is among all else,
A material thing, easily torn,
And not easily mended. It is a mere matter of falling,
Yet no one ever fell. Boom-down, he said.
Like cement. Boom – boom!!
A token for her truest feelings for him.

They think you have lost your ambition,
That you haven’t got a definite aim in life.
He was dead weight.
I know how weak men are,
Even hot weather encourages more loose morals
Among young people.

He had difficulty keeping his attention on war,
Even though he carried his own life.
For games of chance require a wager to have meaning at all.
One could drown in irrelevance.
But it is perfectly easy if you have any strength in your thumb.

It was an action shot.
Necessity dictated.
His wish for a harmonious organized world
Denied him the reckless possibilities of wrongdoing.
His mind wandered.
It was funny how you found yourself worrying about odd things,
Imagination itself was a source of secrets.
But nothing in his life was sufficiently interesting
Or shameful to merit hiding.
The single abiding certainty
Was that they would never be at a loss for things to carry.
To carry something was to hump it.
The hump was everything, a kind of inertia,
A kind of emptiness, a dullness of desire,
An intellect and conscience and hope and human sensibility.

The things they carried were determined
By some extent by superstition,
Partly for safety, partly for the illusion of safety.
And nothing that can be,
Can come between me and
The full prospect of my hopes
For that who lives by the sword shall perish by the sword.
They marched for the sake of the march.
And though you think the world is at your feet,
It can rise up and tread on you.
Because the ultimate
State admits no argument concerning the notion of fate.
He knew these last lines by hard and mouthed them now in the darkness.
Come back, come back to me.
I am going mad, I told myself.
Let me not be mad.
But was it possible that
I was, in the modern term, in denial?
It was a balance between crazy and almost crazy.
I don’t love anybody.
Please believe me.
I’ll try and be a good boy for you.

He tried not to cry.

They were too frightened to be cowards.
But you couldn’t burn the blame.
That was the touch.

Darkness was nothing-
It was not a substance, it was not a presence,
It was no more than an absence of light.
The fog made things seem hollow and unattached,
Where things came together but also separate.
And he came back much too late,
For war was always here.
And please do not let me see anyone using his finger.

* Mariana Michelsen es estudiante de undécimo grado en el colegio Los Nogales en la ciudad de Bogotá.

One Response to “M&M’s for especially bad wounds.”

  1. Enrique Andrade Says:

    Mariana: no te conocia estas habilidades! Te felicito y me anticipo unos dias a decirte Feliz Cumpleaños….