Blind Alley.

No weapons
Naked
Tears and hair go down the drain
My body is not holding up all this pressure,
All those masks together,
All this is getting on my nerves
Because I can do nothing, but write, write, write
and think, think, think...

No retaliating
Bare
Buried on earth from bottom of the sea,
Doomed to remember everything and anything
That might leave a mark.
I am too deep, I am too weird, I am too trying-to-be-saviour.
And I never get at the end of that. Never.
They never show their faces, they never stop and open their ears, use their eyes,
Get loose of this war without arguments.

My spoken or written words are not all that I wish to express.
If I take one more step, I explode.
And it will not end well. Oh no.

Leaving the stand of the scream, of the 'call attention'
Because it is not advancing, not changing.
And I do not know what to do. Simply do not know what to do.
Just know that I am now receiving the silence
It will remain thus
Until something beautiful and formidable happen
On this blind alley.