January, 3th.

We are trying. We still trying.

We are living in a small room, with some of the clothes we’ve saved.

My wife and me haven’t talked since that day.

Will the angels sing again?

The distance is deeper, I cannot hear my wife anymore.

I cannot feel the love…

My third child is growing through this fog.

My chest is full with broken glasses.

My days are longer…Every second passing like a knife through my heart.

My nights are full of nightmares.

I still listening their voices in my head.

I could have saved them, yes… I could.

-Written by Alejandro Viloria. Wednesday, 09/28/2016.


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