..

the homeless guy around the corner is hosting a friendly visit and i sit at the terrace hearing sirens with a weight over my chest and a painted smile on my face.
lack of love hurts the soul and take away the ground.
i'm hypersensitive to small things so i try silence routines now.
and wearing gray on wendnesdays.
kill all residues of human condition and finally feel free to feel.
but denial is more attractive at all times.
i couldn't smash anything but i did cut my hair.
you know behavior present itself with time.
turning and turning and never getting out of place.
the violins are quiet now. a carousel with no music.
cry in the shower underwater by yourself.
don't forget what we said without speaking.
distractions reflected.
i live the reaction.
pagan poetry.


growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional.

..