I lost my thirst, the starvation was leaving me vulnerable, such are these disgraceful certainties. I would lean on dreams, playing a game on chance, leaving the cup empty, expecting to be filled through time.
The flame, went down, little enough so others couldn't see it, big enough for my soul to grasp it. I'll crawl back when the right moment arrives, 'till then I'll take from time more time, paint new routines, new ways of being, turn my being into hate and colera, change it to kind and selflessness by the click of the clock.
My reality is now unstable, I'll maneuver it the way I see fit, I shall not loose once more on past fabrications and dreams, I have no more faith on a clandestine journey, purposely planned with no consent for a certain ending, my expectations are no longer formed by false predictions, they are painted, destroyed, created and killed, as many times as they require, the time is no longer a tool of survival, it no longer moves forward nor backwards.
I shattered my glass house in its place, with my bare hands, I built brick by brick, metal on metal, cut, carved and shaved the wood, I'll bring it down whenever l feel no more need for its strength, for its seclusion, for its solace, 'till then my door will remain ajar, attentively seeking for those who wish to consume in measure.
Little by little, second for second, I'll make it count for when my hunger and thirst returns.
YOU ARE READING
No words left
PoetryThis book contains secret stories of my own, secret feelings I never shared, words I never dared to say out loud. It's not fictional, is thoughtful and true in my own perspective. Now as you read these small proses and poems I would like you to imag...
