My Tides -Thanatos and Eros-

Valve

It is so cold.

I've been sitting on my terrace for an impalpable amount of time staring up at the morning sky.

Four blankets wrapped around my pajama pants.

Three sweaters and a thick suede jacket with lambskin to keep me warm.

My hands shimmer blue and the cracks on my fingertips reflect the aridity of my seabed.

The 12 cigarette in the morning.

At sunrise I can count again.

The hot embers in the night glimmered countless times.

I feel so empty.

My fingers let me write it all down.

And now I remain alone again.

I feel so weak.

Eating, drinking and sleeping.

Human needs I can't imagine now.

Too weak.

In no direction can I move.

My seabed lies so empty.

Yet my heart cries so loudly.

All I have to do is listen.

All I have to do is look.

When I deny myself everything.

No food.

No drinking.

No sleep.

No fulfillment.

All I have to do is listen.

What's stopping me from finally lying down.

Rather roll the next cigarette in the December cold.

Just listen, Amara!

What is your heart trying to tell you?

What's hurting it so much?

And I suddenly see Nathan in front of me.

And tears spring to my eyes.

While Maxim was indulging in the poisonous intoxication of alcohol and the soul-stealing irrelevance of anonymous sexuality, Nathan was experiencing the deepest grief.

I see him before me, quietly sneaking into his Aunt Nicole's apartment and rushing to take a shower.

I see his tears of shame.

I see his fingers scrubbing themselves sore.

How could he humiliate himself like that?

How could he put himself in such a situation?

He feels so infinitely alone.

And his soul cries out in pain.

A stranger.

A complete stranger.

The best friend of his dearest cousin.

How could he?

Why did this happen?

And I feel a crushing lump in my throat.

Nathan, it's not your fault.

Life shows a sweet smile next to an ugly grimace.

You never know what's prescribed.

It's not your fault.