Years Later

I’ve been walking alone at night for years now,
With nothing but the Moon by my side.
The hills, the woods, the towns are new every day;
Yet like the damp soil, they don’t change much at all.
And sometimes I get cold under a tree.

I wanna run but I’m too weak now and I realize
It is impossible to run away from this ugly skin.
But they say it’s dry and cracked and bleeding,
So I’ll hope I slowly ooze out of it, like pus.
But I won’t lie, I’ve met some kind people too.

It’s not that great to be always walking
And now and then I can stop to watch
A sunset or children play or some people protesting.
But the moment passes, and I have to walk again,
For I have nothing else to do, really.

I don’t know who keeps these heavy rocks
On my chest while I sleep, but I’ve grown used to it.
Sometimes I find myself as a two year old girl, barefoot,
Standing alone in a corridor as someone familiar
Opens the door, and the bright snow pours inside.

Everything seems okay then, I feel homely;
But then I wake up, with a rock on my chest.
It’s been so long I’ve forgotten how you look, but I’m sure
You’ll still recognise me if we bump into each other again.
Till then I’ll just keep on walking, and try not to bother anyone.