About to jump and smiling.

What I've been most afraid of lately is the moment when I become you. Not because of the grooves of age, for which I will be grateful. It's the marks on your soul that worry me. Those deep wounds that long ago made you die and kept bleeding. They splashed our lives and stained them with a scarlet that makes us grieve.

That way of understanding poison as something that protects you…That's what I'm afraid of. Because I believe that if you expel something from the inside, you have had to generate it: toxicity of thoughts and behaviors that have brought out the worst in you. All that rotten darkness inside you.

It paralyzes me to think that I will want to cause someone so much pain. For free. Or for the price to pay will always be expensive. They say that he who doesn't pay owns the debt. Also that what you don't know today by paying, tomorrow you'll know for free. So many moons have passed since that night that it seems like a dream and not a memory.

I'm afraid to love like you. Maybe I could never understand what you felt when you hugged me. When you looked at me. Nor if you were capable of sharing me, nor of wanting to procure my freedom. In your face I read constant contradictions, and I tried to pray to crumble so much meaning. Selfishness married cowardice and I was told I was lucky, that I was the one who failed. In time, I realized that I didn't feel rage, but that I was flying. That I felt part of the air, that I couldn't die of grief or clip my wings.

How the smoke of your cigarette impregnated my head with ashes? I saw those dark circles under your eyes and they screamed at me that I was to blame. Values were not so clear nor could I choose between several options. Now I am grateful that so many cuts were not in vain, but I spent too many summers in the emergency room. I wanted to make a whole cemetery dance and you tried to drown me in a soul full of cysts.

And I'm not afraid of this fear of being you. Maybe you think it keeps me at bay, like someone who doesn't try drugs for fear of addiction. Time to time, in my eyes nothing is hidden. I've learned to dance with demons who don't reveal their face from the start. His touch doesn't skin me, doesn't crack any chink of my skin. About to jump and smiling.