Their Faces All So Lovely

I said I was tired of life
That some days were not so bad
But others were too much
And this voice inside my head
Started up
Said Don’t you live in Colombia?
I said yes
It said are you tired of all that
Green grass growing there?
Have you seen the ever-brown
Sahara Desert nations?
I said No, it’s beautiful,
Our grass is beautiful
The voice then asked if I
Was tired of seeing babies’ faces,
Of looking at baby animals
In general
No, I said. Their faces are
All so lovely and I adore
Baby animals and their charm
The voice asked if I had work,
Clothes, a roof over my head,
Someone dear to share those
Things with
Yes, I said, yes, yes, and yes
Didn’t you get a grandson
Last year? The voice asked
Is he complete—arms, legs,
Feet, hands, normal in every
Aspect you can think of?
Yes, I answered
Are you also tired of him?
The voice continued
Would you like for him
To disappear? His mom, dad,
Other relatives of his?
No, I said, afraid now,
No, even the word ‘terrified’
Crossed my mind
Please, don’t let any of that
Happen, spare me!
But you are tired of life,
It said. What does it matter?
It does, I said. It matters greatly
Perhaps I was tired but now
That feeling is changing
I feel a little less tired now, I mean,
I want to live, I want my loved
Ones to live, laugh, love, play,
To work, to pray
The voice didn’t say anymore
After that
I waited, silently
No, nothing
Dark and quiet it got
I was still afraid
That fear was like an adhesive:
It took a long time
To budge then disappear.