Ioana Pasca
Bio
The soft touch of your skin on mine,
The silent whisper of the night.
I am lost never to be found,
Lost in dim light and soft sound.
There are many ways I wish to forget you
But none of them come to mind.
Stories (2/0)
The living, the dead and the process of healing.
We can't always remember events from our childhood, sometimes we remember certain events and everything else is a blur. For me, there is one event from my childhood that I will always remember. The sort of event that doesn't fade with time and doesn't get blurred out in the background, it's ever-present. It happened when I was around 4 years old. I remember there was tension in my home, although the reason for it was unknown for me I knew that it was present just like a delicate mist. We were living in an apartment building on the fourth floor. I remember sitting on the balcony with a pair of binoculars looking out in the distance for my mother. After a while, she would appear in my line of vision and I would follow her with the binoculars right up until she would reach the staircase. Everyday she had the same look on her face. a deep and dark look that was marked by exhaustion and worry. Back then I didn't know what was going on, it seemed strange but I was young and my capacity of understanding such complex feelings was very limited.
By Ioana Pasca4 years ago in Families
