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The unchased dreams become our prison
by Katerina Charisi
2018-04-23 08:21:47
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The unchased dreams become our prison

The dreams we never chased weigh with time.
They weigh like burlap sacks full of dirt out in the rain;
Transforming into grotesque snowmen as winters go by.
In the end they’re just an unbearable weight crushing your shoulders,
Forcing you on your knees,
A boot print on your face,
Mud inside your nose,
Spitting blood between your tight teeth.
Burlap sacks; one on top of the other and you fight for a breath that can’t escape your lungs.
But how? How can you chase them?
When they have nothing mad,
Nothing unthinkable,
Nothing utopian,
Nothing crazy?
When they are not chimaeras anymore.
When they became ordinary and boring and …normal,
When they became something you had and lost it and you once called it “a home”.
What happened to the cotton clouds?
Where are the voices?
We were flying above the clouds and listened to them as they called us to be careful, to come down quick.
Now we crawl underground and invisible.
We even stopped searching for the Light.
Our dreams stacked one on top of the other, burlap sacks stuffed with unfertilized soil;
Dykes soaked in rains and winters and years in a battle we lost.
We let them becοme our prison and then we hid behind them,
Seeking for safety,
Refusing to fight.
Refusing to stand up.
Denying to live.



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