Some two thousand twenty's resolutions

There it is. A glowing dot
in the sky. You could hear it's whistle
before it lands.

You watch it blow in a voice that's
become familiar. It was a very long
time ago, and the voice is
still there, pulling the air out
of your lungs.

But you know that
one gets to feel this
much broken only once. You
know that this heartbreak
loses it's sadness
with time, disguising as
reminiscent smiles.

You know that in time,
you'll forget the piles of garbage bags, and
the rotting remains of helpless bodies
in your backyard,
you'll only remember the cobblestone streets,
the perfume of early blossoms.
You'll forget the handcuffs, the executions,
and miss those colorful, small houses
scattered along the outskirts.
You'll forget the hunger and the cruelty
of januaries,
but the walls of your neighborhood,
that saved your handwriting
and your tiny sketches of
hearts and peace signs, will
always find a way to your dreams.

You're as strong and
as weak
as this.