And then the words started coming out.
One by one, ⠀
they competed with each other, which is to be the first to reach my body.
⠀
The blows are more painful than the baton itself.
Word by word, naked body, ⠀
sticking condemnations to the same one. ⠀
⠀
Words are parasites that ⠀
inhabit my delicate skin. ⠀
⠀
Pale ink, ⠀
like dried blood ⠀
tattooed my body ⠀
like it wished. ⠀
⠀
All my attempts ⠀
have become miserable.
⠀
Cut, ⠀
intersect, ⠀
cut open. ⠀
⠀
Stretch my skin and cover yourself with it.
⠀
There was no way out, ⠀
but there were ways in, ⠀
for them. ⠀
⠀
I’m sewing my inner habitat ⠀
in an attempt to protect my discomfort. ⠀
⠀
It’s not easy to reach the universe in me.
You create black holes in me, in vain.
⠀
Do you know that nothing kills a human being more than the word itself?
⠀
That’s a lie.
