Stories

I’d like write a story.
I’d like to write the kind of story
that you can repeat to yourself
when you are in the place where you can just drown.
That you can repeat to your friend
when she’s in that unknown place
where it’s impossible see beyond your feet.
I know a story, everybody already know it.
I’d like write another story.
I can remember the day in which someone passed one afternoon
telling me stories, even though it was just one.
She’s dead, she had lost her story before everything.
I’d like to write a story, but I think that if I do it,
I will lose the chance to live it.