I feel the melodic song
Of that northern wind
Saying to me, “the time has come
To wake from the trance,”

And with a lump in my throat
I pick up the pieces;
Organize them according to value
And then dispatch them all at once.

Because a pain stirs
The vast depths of my soul
And I see an emptiness
I did not notice before,

It says with conviction:
“It’s time to move on,
It’s time to end the story,
It’s time to shut the door,”

Mainly to respond
To that bittersweet agony
Of having to leave
What I once loved behind,

And to utter a cry
To hear fading voices,
To hide unspoken words,
To finally: Paint the past blind.

This time it will not
be like before,
No convict memories
Will again step outside the mind’s vault

Nor dark shaded daggers
Will pierce the heart
Regurgitating the words
“It was all your fault!”

For the mind and body
Have found each other
At the intersection
Of motivation and tranquility

Where the dawn
Of a new path
Houses within its premises
The true keys to life and verity.

And so, with a shattered smile
I say on to you
Past of mine,
“Thank you for your time

Good riddance and goodbye
We must separate now
For if I were to linger any longer
Against myself, I’d be committing a crime”

Carla Luzmila
Olympia, WA