when lightning sings through the sky
The sound of thunder can be heard competing with the melancholic music playing in the background while my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Flashes slip through the window — like the sky is taking pictures of me. The rain comes as a calm mantle for those in crisis under a roof, behind closed doors and open hearts. Maybe life is a dark room we only glimpse the way out when lightning sings through the sky for a split second. All the rest is darkness and tact. We touch walls so we don’t stumble upon the furniture of life. I thought I knew the way, I thought the rain soothed me and the flashes of the sky illuminated me with clarity to see beyond, but setbacks are furniture I stumbled upon again and again. I’m told to mean what I say — how can one mean what one is unsure of? Can uncertainty also be meaningful, or can it not? I got no one to blame, it’s on me. Versão em português: O som dos trovões disputa espaço com a música melancólica ao fundo, enquant...
