Tell me
Who is the employee of the month right now in your life?
Tell me
Who is the squid you’re going to leave without its ink?
Now my life is a mountain,
I climb it with ballast, on a wall without a harness.
I’ll tell you the reasons.
I never listened to advice. Look, I was warned!
I asked for a moment of silence for those who talked too much.
Then you kicked me out, and I called the union.
I had the right to forty laments for each day kissed,
And this wound as a gift.
Tell me who escapes carrying wounds, now and always.
Tell me who escapes. Who doesn’t carry wounds? One or twenty.
Oooh…
It never heals; it opens if looked at and travels across my skin.
And it bleeds when it wants to, heals when it hurts. Nothing I can do.
And at the end of the day, it keeps you alive and screams, “Lie down.”
It advises me on any decision about matters of the heart.
What an obscenity your memory is.
I know someone who is a good tennis player; it’s game and set.
After playing on silk courts, oh, what a backhand!
And from them, there’s a taste of defeat,
After receiving a diploma that says, “You tried,”
And this wound as a gift.
Tell me who escapes carrying wounds, now and always.
Tell me who escapes. Who doesn’t carry wounds? One or twenty.
Oooh…
It never heals; it opens if looked at and travels across my skin.
And it bleeds when it wants to, heals when it hurts.
Nothing I can do.
What irony!
It’s much more alive than my own being.
It advises me on any decision about matters of the heart.
What a blessing your memory is.
And I love it; I love my wound so much.
It’s all I have left of you.
Long live it!