Lunedì, 15 Marzo, 2004 | Posted by Lionel Gerkin at 15:51

I lay here with a hole in my heart.

Blood is flowing out in torrents.

It falls over the keyboard.

I can hear the splash, splash, splash of red pools as I type. They lap at the edges of the desk. My coffee cup has become an island in a crimson sea.

The wound was administed by the letter she wrote. Silvia.

"I don't love you anymore", she wrote. "I love another", she wrote.

Splash, splash, splash.

These words were written with letters of such violence that they have torn a hole in my chest. I have not been able to hear her voice.

Splash, splash, splash.

May the poison in my heart flood my senses. May the desire in my heart find a route to revenge.

May the tear in my chest heal over with scar tissue of such ferocity that it can turn away and abandon any thoughts of compassion.

May this emotion avoid no one. No one except my daughter. Our daughter. The daughter you have now taken from me. The daughter you will turn against me.

Splash, splash, splash. Splash, splash, splash. Splash, splash, splash.