Moving on

You tell me to move on
Without complaining
Not to ruin the image of your reality.
I will step out
But my opinions are sacred,
Laid in a basket inside me,
And they will be written if not told.
Reality passes quietly and silent
and I needed time to give a name
to all the happenings.
I hate labels but they give the right words
to tell the story
I do not want to forget.

Window

Tired
Of hearing the’ you can do it’
The’ women can do everything’
But have to struggle more.
Annoyed
By those who give it for granted
And just enjoy your result
Laying on their desk.
Running
Among the comments and assumptions
For my present and my future.
Happy
Of leaving the window a bit open
And enjoying the fresh wind of opportunities.

Slope

Standing on a steep slope
Makes your muscles tense
And your mind alert
Yet the direction to take is unclear
And certainly tiring.
Looking down into the ease,
The fear of a quick trip to disengagement
Sets in.
Looking up into the unknown,
Tickles my neurons and starts a small blue flame,
But the climb will make my body sore.