Hope

Desculpem mas esta semana não há conto.
Sinto-me tudo menos inspirada para escrever algo alegre e também não quero escrever mais um conto dramático.
Fiquem então com algo que escrevi em 2004 (em inglês). Infelizmente não é alegre:

Why does it hurt so much?
I though I was prepared.
For the longest time
I knew it would come to this.
I knew this was how it was going to end.
For the longest time,
I cried in anticipation
Expecting,
Fearing
But knowing.
Knowing too well that this would be the end of it.
So why?
Why does my heart ache?
Why does my body crumble with each step?
Why do the tears still come from my eyes?
Why do I still hope things would be different?
Why?
When I knew …
I knew and expected.
It still hurts so much …

To know that we were right all along.
Why do we hope,
Even when we know there is no hope left?
Even when we know it’s inevitable.
Why is hope …
Really the last thing to die?