Intento II
Unaddressed
I was gone with no safety today, no,
whispering solutions,
claimin’ ’bout my own impolution
in my eyes.
Holding myself up with one hand
while the other writes,
peeling off some scars,
opening space to begin a search for the pain
that was kept and hidden so it wouldn’t be shown.
It’s trying to express everything necessary to reduce the size of our stomach,
it’s trying to set them on fire,
light them up so the future can see.
Some last letters, some, announcing themselves as the last ones.
I’m full of goodbye letters with no owner,
So I begin to write some as welcome ones,
to give rise to some characters who can take ownership of the others.
And despite everything,
nothing seems to be profitable, to hold responsibility on the page.
So I break every connector, I refuse to not receive the same treatment.
Everything deserves to be destroyed so it won’t mean an extra weight on this path.
And maybe this will be a really long, lonely journey,
but I know
that I won’t be the last living soul
