“It’s what happened a year ago.
It’s is not a poem or a fiction.
It’s only my life”
Tommy.
I was exploring. Playing.
I went up, then the world become narrow and dark.
A rumble.
The shaken world, a darkness bubble.
I was taken away, without hope.
The world had lost all sense, I was afraid.
I was alone and i felt lost.
A powerful hand threw me it into the abyss.
I had fallen on the ground, the black and hard earth. The asphalt had wounded me.
He tooks my breath, the pain, everything was a black shroud.
Cars roaring around me, grinning and indifferent.
I felt cold.
Everything was losing sense.
Then, in the fog, I heard in the distance a dark light.
“I’m here, I’m alive”
A low rumble, rhythmic thuds. Someone gave me shelter, protection.
I was not alone.
I felt a warmth, timid hands encircled me, trembling.
A voice supported me, protected me, he prayed.
He lifted me with infinite grace and caution.
Still the dark place, but it was comfortable.
I saw nothing, the broken breath, the pain.
Even his hands, running, the door opens abruptly.
The stentorian voice, which does not allow objections.
Hands on me, smells acres, but always the voice and loving hands.
I share the fear and hope.
We remain alone and he speaks to me, he never stops to speak to me.
I hear a noise inside, devastated me, I no longer feel anything.
Everything is hot and motionless. I can not breath.
(…)
Everything loses meaning, I’m dying.
But he doesn’t give up. No. He doesn’t want.
Massaging me, encourages me, he speaks to me. Prays.
I returned in the world, opened the only good eye for a moment, I found the strength for a thin mewing.
He understands. I understand.
I am here. With him.
I’m alive.
I’m Tommy.
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Tommy
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