HOME SICK HOME by Nany Aguiar

1–2 minutes
Part of LitehousePride - supporting the exophonic LGBTQ+ writers and poets and their contribution to the literary world.

I've built the walls of my house
With black paper and ink
One day a blind bird knocked on my door
And with his tongue touching the floor
It asked me for something to drink
I took him to the sink
Filled it up with my blood
"I should have told you first
There is no water here
In order to kill my thirst
I have to keep it dry
So this house won't fall apart"
. . .
The bird aimed to the sky
And just before I disappeared on his wings
He said staring to my empty veins
Drinking sip by sip:
"As these walls, so your pain
The darker it gets
The harder it is to R.I.P."

Subscribe to our newsletter and receive our very latest news.

← Back

Thank you for your response. ✨