New Orleans

(The crisis says)
I promise you smiles
Vacation in Disney
A house on the beach
With a view of the sea, Nutella pancakes
One of those nights (like in a soap opera)
A retreat to India until you realize
That I want to be your nausea, palpitation
A tightness in the chest, tense muscles
A lump in the throat, loss of control, tremor
Fluoxetine, panic, and dread

Eyes as dark as a well, shades of brown pitch black, pills and vials
Prayers in the mouth of an atheist
Day that didn't dawn, guide dog blindness
The conversation between a toothbrush
And the patient in chemotherapy makes my skin a coat, paleness pear
Where being calm is like holding the sun with wax fingers
Porto Prince, shivering, cold spine
Able to make a Syrian girl love French manicures
In my chest nestles
A fracture in the sternum
In seconds the Last Supper turns into a drink in hell breaks puddles of tension
Katrina drowns New Orleans bathtub with ice, cuts at kidney height
Adages of Cain, the cream of fear a pedophile teaching a child to spell secret
Sheet, smelling sour, diazepam, Cohibas
Yesterday was Moulin Rouge today, Emilio Ribas
Suicide notes, turns the pharmacy into a mall kiss me like needles kissed Janis Joplin
Touches me like Robert Johnson touched Satan
And while I pray it offers me apple pies
My cold sweat is the Taliban shooting at another Malala
The space between Malcolm's chest and the tip of the bullet has already dug my grave and before the picture gets ugly
Tell God to pick up my prayers
In the mailbox!

(My head in the midst of the crisis says)
You thought I was a scheme, I saw you enchant
Thought I was your match, in me you saw your home
I'm here to be your problem, not your passion
I'm here to mess you up
Take your ground

Each crisis is a teenager
Who makes bulimia a new love
And sees a mirror in the toilet every time she vomits
Who freaks out thinking: Beauty is something inside
And with 2 fingers in the throat shows you how beautiful you are
Each crisis is a ballerina dreaming
Of her debut in a European company
Each outburst is discovering
That your life is powered by a battery
And that the walls of the box
Are your only audience

Each crisis is a mother with cancer
Telling her young son
That heaven is on the second floor each outburst is when the son discovers
That no matter how big the staircase is
It never gets there

Each crisis is an internal battle victory is the first steps air of restart, but celebrated every sunrise
Silently because in nations at war
On New Year's there are no fireworks

(The crisis says)
I made the smile an invitation
And what's left for me? Cleaning up all the mess, our party is nearing its end
Don't be like this, I'm not bad, I just did my part
How can you hate me if I promise you heaven?

(My head in the midst of the crisis says)
You thought I was a scheme, I saw you enchant
Thought I was your match, in me you saw your home
I'm here to be your problem, not your passion
I'm here to mess you up
Take your ground

When someone talks to you about anxiety
Depression, panic, never underestimate
Just because you don't see a crisis doesn't mean it doesn't exist
Listen, be present
A word can determine whether the next message will be a good morning note or a suicide letter
And this is not poetry