• Poetry

    I believe I can from scratch tailor my beginning

    I give reality a chance, but I don’t blindly go to its chambers, I don’t fall easily to every noise like when I was a kid. I surrender to the world who spreads its arms to hug me or crush me, I’m taking a risk. I only squat to peek through the cut in my right palm, to remind me how I was bleeding to protect what was mine. And I remember forgetting, because it’s easier to press your eyelids with your thumbs but to let the pain pour out and sink you. But I give these walls a chance which diminish me as soon as I speak out loud…