When I was 16, I outcried.
In front of hundreds of people
listening to me, I said that
I love him.
I uttered it in a language
he can understand.
He was sitting from faraway
with his arms crossed on his chest.
And when he stood up, I knew he
recognized himself through my metaphors.

I was 16 back then,
very young and naive.
But I already knew
that speaking your feelings out
is important and vital.
I know I was brave.
I know I did the right thing.

Now, in my present life,
I passed by people.
People who are much
older than 16.
With very high walls
and tough shields.
Who are too afraid
of vulnerability.

I watch as to how much love
is lost along the way.
How they can’t see
the sparkling dust of euphoria
in their hands.
They’re all letting it slip away.

I can see the magnetic force
between their glances.
I can hear the loud thumping of their hearts
when they touch.
I can feel the rhapsody when they see
each other smile.
But, still,
they walk away.

I watch all of them
with one pressing question
in my mind.


Now in The Artidope