I’d wish for shooting stars to disappear forever

Today, while going to the supermarket, I decided to stop by the park, sit on a bench and smoke a cigar. And for a few seconds, it felt nice to just sit there and watch the smoke and the people passing by. When I had to get up, I felt a little dizzy, but still, I walked. And I kept walking, walking, and I began to think.

I remembered the pain, so vividly, as if it was yesterday, as if it was a ghost standing on my shoulders, it was there, for a moment, again. His hand against my face, his eyes into mine. I never wanted to stay, but he made me, he made me stay so many times when all I wanted was to go back home, still, I had no home to return to. I still don’t. So I stayed there, in that cold embrace, those cold hands choking me, on the outside and the inside, the pain on my bones, on my mind, the tears in my eyes. I was thrown in a dumpster and left there, used, abused, forgotten, rotten.

Everything is bottled up inside of me, and I can’t let go.

It has been a long time since that happened, but my dreams bring those memories back every now and then, at random, when walking down the streets, when I’m laying in my bed staring at the ceiling, when I’m eating, those thoughts pop up. It is like an uninvited guest who stays on your house even though you don’t want them there, and they never leave.

Sometimes in the middle of the night I still think about all those things, all those nightmares. I once read somewhere that the cells on your body renew themselves every 7 years, so, someday I’ll have a body you never touched. I dream of that day every now and then. One day, there’ll be no bad dreams, there won’t be no pain. Until then, I will keep on going.

At least I hope so.