Poison at 9pm

I always loved visiting my grandparents.
There was, is, a different vibe than at my parents.

Older furniture, carpets, photographs.
Evoking a pleasant mood like a recently born time in brass tea taps.

Beautiful memories.
Warming the soul like angry bees.

But it wasn’t just about the magic atmosphere.
About a vintage gear.

One secret room.
Next to the bedroom.

Fridge, machines, big table.
A woman workshop without a steely triangle.

Humbly looking, generously giving – kitchen.
A place where ostriches changed into chicken.

Hey, darling stop!
You just entered the candy shop.

Hundreds of colours.
Shining brighter than a hundred dollars.

Seductive shapes.
Grandfather, out there are grapes!


She knew how to improve a bored mood.
Yes, with the taste of food.

Mainly fat, crunchy sweet.
Bringing sticky heat.

Often eating, beyond plate.
Delicacies decorated with no date.

Flowing proudly, loudly through vein.
They made me strong enough to break whatever chain.

A child habit remained active.
In an age, where hands should remain the most productive.

A fast, easy snack.
I’m a genius and this is my extraordinary hack.

Black empathic water.
Encouraging me in moments when I felt like a daughter.

Red nectar covering potatoes.
While gestures tried to introduce.

Dumb ideas.
Changing ordinary mud to fancy glass.

During evening.
During morning dreaming.

Interesting fact?
It wasn’t an occasional act.

I considered it the correct way.
How to function every day.

First, second, third bite – pure euphory.
Then later, sad story.

Sensitive guts.
Cursing all the gods.

Loving audience.
Did not have the understanding for a subtle offense.

Sudden, fast freshness.
Disappeared, replaced with madness.

Walking like a mummy.
Vital as an exhausted nanny.

I felt bad.
I looked bad.

The summers caused a flood.
Entirely wet, smelly, so cute.

Until a hero appeared, powerful like the wind.
Patient to change my mind.

The desire to feel, look better.
Regardless of the weather.

Embracing barbells.
Firstly alone, no one else.

Running on a concrete road.
Ears leading a conversation with Eminem’s note.

Day by day.
Day by day.

Another step, devoted to nutrition.
Keeping the soul in great condition.

Whoever, start to clap.
I threw away my favourite lollipop.

Whoever, start to scream.
I kicked away the vanilla ice cream.

Whoever, call crocodile Dundee.
I burnt the cherry candy.

Best decision ever.
Honestly, the beginnings felt like terror.

Thirst in the throat.
Hungry like a rusty boat.

Despite these obstacles.
Stamina beat the fate predicted by oracles.

Maybe not ridiculously wealthy.
Only really healthy.

Getting up earlier than the alarm clock – excess energy.
Falling asleep faster than a cracked light bulb, a calm mind – invested energy,

The ability to run a marathon.
The focus to press the right button.

Happiness holding the sparks in my eye.
Enthusiasm always ready to try.

All of this thanks to the determination to insert toxin.
Where it belongs, into the trash bin.

All of this thanks to the effort to take care of myself like of a ring.
Hand-made by a sibling.

Healthy body.
Not spreading an ugly melody.

A balanced soul.
Is not addicted to a sugar bowl.

occasionally, fat, sugar protein bar.
As a symbol of reward.

PS 2:
No more meetings with friends over a juicy slice of pizza.
Or night manoeuvres, taking place in the spirit of Ibiza.

They continue without my presence.
Because my discipline does not have understanding in their sentence.