Still, or a strange Sunday evening?

I sit down, and I look at the PC
when the night passes I'm not sure if I can get to the end of it,
I feel strange, like a fear inside of me is hurting my chest, out of nowhere,
eyes want to cry, but I'm not sure,
don't know how to write the feelings inside out,
I take a pild, one of those that calms people down,
I wait,
the piano music is on,
and it feels strange,
smile, smile, smile is the word I want to shout,
but not even one muscle of my face moves toward that happy face,
not one muscle moves with the desire to say a word,
at least, the fingers type,
let see,
MIERDA!!!!!
mierda, mierda!!!!!!!
it's my sister around?
yes, my sister...
my sister who died 3 years ago,
fuck!!!!
is the pild working?
mmmmm...I think so.