[ The alarm woke me up. It was time to get up, and return to my everyday chores. I felt guilty. I remembered so much things, but was secretly convinced they were not true.

Could I be that selfish person who was afraid of death? Would it be possible that I could never risk my life to save others? Could I be so afraid of death that I would never dare to live with fulfillment?

Could I forgive other’s faults as I would like others to forgive me or would I remain afraid all my life?

I had experienced those dreams as a reality because they invaded my mind as a memory.

Could a dream, be real somehow or somewhere?

“Never, ” a voice told me. I stood up, and listened carefully. I didn’t hear a possible source of that sound. My mind repeated the words: A dream can never be real.

I laughed. My life was the greatest dream I could ever experience. Day after day, life after life, I licked an instant of existence. I saw myself as a lollipop. ]

Hard, but inconsistent.
Sweet, but multi-layered.
It is me trying to understand
why do I begin with a smile,
frown my eyebrows
through the day,
and end with a kiss.

Soft, but consistent.
Sour, but colored.
It is me trying to unveil
how does my heart beat.

Pumping blood,
only a window left,
my reflection I see,
it is not mine:
It is a lollipop,
becoming old.
Did I enjoy it?
Did it enjoy me?

Dear Lollipop,
am I just a lost soul
or are you a ghost?

The wind touches my center,
it has reached the bone,
death is just a state,
but the candy is enjoying
its new home:
my jolly body.