Неусетно

Животът неусетно минава и сълзите бягат в тишина, тогава ти тихо застана и ми подаде ръка. Целуваше устните нежно, прегръщеше ме със силни ръце, но ледено бе сърцето уморено от тежестта. Думите бяха само шум, шум дразнещ ухото, звездите гаснеха бавно по черния небосвод. Понечих бързо да стана и в мрака да се скрия, ти ме хвана изплашен и молише ме да остана. Аз бях сляпа и глуха, исках всичко за мен без да усетя как губя най ценното в този момент.

Робот

Обичта ти мила, волна, сладка 

моето сърце разби 

и кръвта – масло за смазка, 

механизма повреди. 

Очите ми кристални, светеха на металния ми лик, 

и тялото – стоманена кутия, 

с ръжда безмилостно се покри. 

Чувствата чужди ми станаха 

сякаш цял живот била съм нещастна. 

И останах пак бездушна все едно не съм живяла, 

от любов не съм пяла, 

оставам си метална кутия – робот.

Гравюра

Гласът ти – стон утихнал чувам още без причина, 

усещам твоя дъх повян от южния вятър заскъснял. 

Гледам нашата картина, портет остарял, а милувките нежни сравнявам със блян... 

Лъчите последни греят есенния ден... 

И тогава тя идва, онази, плътната тъмнина, която всичко обвива във “мътна” тишина... 

Прверъща ме в сянка прозрачна, зависима от теб и тъга.... 

Но ти си отиде отдавна, далеч си от реалността. 

И гасна пред портрета бавно, спомен от младостта... 

И виждам нашите дни, дни, които гравира, а гравюрата още кърви...

Calvin and Marsha’s Love

It was so long ago, but I still remember his eyes. Eyes full of sadness and emptiness. One name was still written in his heart and all the pain which was bought by it, couldn’t be ignored. His soul cried every night with bloody tears and screamed her name. The roses which were standing in the crystal vase began to fade. Her picture hung above three little candles. The room, where all this symbolic things were situated, was almost empty. There was one chair, one bed, broken and old, waiting for its end, and the table with a little shrine. A woman from a black-and-white photo was beautiful. Her long hair fell down her shoulders with light curls; eyes – like a river – as deep as an ocean; sad and happy at the same time… Her face was unforgettable – some power made it scary and lovable at the same time. But she was dead. Her death was the biggest hit in his life; death without reason; death bought by a drunk car driver who stole her life. And Calvin (this was his name) was confused and angry. The guilt of his stupid behavior during the last days spent with her, have never left him alone. But the pain of her absence was as big as a black hole – endless, without light and hope. He was still seeing her ghost haunting around this little dark and empty room. And the circle of fear, in which he had been living for years, had no end. Moreover his solitude was at its top, he couldn’t stop drinking. His memories drawn by some love, were killing him, and he killed them with some cheep absinthe. And the green fairy which was living in these bottles took his life, slowly or not. On one of his lonely nights, he lit the lantern. And the dark room seemed not to be as scary as it looked. The walls were painted in different colours with figures like an art gallery. The table with the altar was an usual table – it was one of those used by rich people but smaller and prettier. Calvin wasn’t poor all his life. He had everything he wanted with Marsha until that awful day. He worked in a court of justice as a judge – a man who deserves to be known. But now… The life is not a toy and it showed that very well to the ex – judge. That night, when the lantern was showing all this strange beauty of the room, but the old quarters was burnt. No one knew what exactly happened there… But I know… Calvin was sitting and crying again for his love. He opened an old wooden box – engraved with silver lines. There were letters and photos much more older than 20 years filled with precious memories from a life stolen by an idiot. He put the letters on the floor. Some of them still had a scent – her perfume. He took the sheets in his hands – they were still shaking even though everything was finished so long ago… He began to read them and innocent tears dropped down. His eyes were happy somehow. But his hearts was too cold for feelings after the accident. His soul was tired from all these memories. He picked up a piece of a mirror in his rough, black from dirt, hands looking at his reflection. The depression reached his mind. He lost his thoughts. One of the photos made him suffer more than the others – the one with his beloved wife. A sharp knife was next to his body – ill from lost love and stolen life. In minutes of madness, he hit the lantern, pushed the table and the grief took hold of his thoughts. He was even more confused. The fire’s tongues caressed his skin with hot softness. Calvin took the knife and cut his hands. Hot blood poured out and touched his sick body. He burnt like a book in a loneliness, misunderstood from no one… Friends? He lost them when his wife had died. The pain from the past made him weak… This sad soul was left alone with no reason to fight. How do I know this? I was the only person who loved him despite his madness. I was his daughter, but I was too young to understand what’s going on...