FOR THE SAKE OF STAYING ALIVE

The quiet ages
Of mind
Don’t you dare
To come
Before I died
I usually don’t
When you’re around

Silence
Staring at me
From the walls
Emptiness is
Puling my hair
Nobody calls
Whoever cares
I don’t

I want
My life back
And to yell
Breaking the vacuum
Into white pieces of infinite Art
And being myself
Despite me
Or whoever is there
To object

I’m ready for rejection
Or middle fingers
Poked at my face
For disgrace
Broken connections
Lies
Goodbyes
Treacherous smiles

Warned
Once more
I’m not
Going to
Fall silent
Nor violent
To fall at all
Not going to faint

My life
The Collection of Screams
Remains
Unchanged
The same…