When the Truth Broke in Two

I remember the first question I never had the courage to speak. I feared I would not receive an answer, and feared even more if I did. words were born from hunger, not from dreams. I had no dreams, only roads walked by others, and I clung to the edge of their shadows, like a child forbidden to ask where is the mother. Wisdom is a trick for the satiated. for us, only silence and a pen with which we write on the wall of the soul: “I am still here.”