Chuva

O dia chove e eu também. "Mamãe, porque você está vazando?" eu perguntei um dia, e hoje sei as respostas. Mais cedo ou mais tarde, todos chovem pelos olhos.
A verdade é que não se deve criar expectativas. Devemos aprender a ficar sozinhos, a respirar fundo, a entender nossos sentimentos sem ajuda. A nos recompor quando preciso. Devemos, devíamos, mas eu não aprendi até hoje e nem sei se um dia vou.
Esse mundo cheio de picuinhas não merece nossas lágrimas, mas fazer o quê?
O céu lava as ruas e eu, minha alma. Almas se deve lavar de dentro pra fora, com cuidado, um pouco até de dor talvez. Esfregando com soluços, levemente, primeiro baixinho, depois com força, mais alto. E mais tarde deixá-las secar ao sol. Vazias, claras, balançando ao vento - lençóis do mais puro sentimento.
Quando o sol voltar me porei pra secar. "Não se preocupe, filha - eu só preciso de sol."

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