The hours. The lines. White spots on the asphalt of time. Endless. They suggest the anticipation. No ally in the struggle to reach. Bereft the mercy of the exit. In the battle that you give in order to. To be lost from the last station.
Time is the enemy. Not a friend. It oppresses joys. It helps sorrows.
It’s just a test.
The discovery of your life is the smile that you did not cause. A shadow that is not yours. It makes the difference. It has color. It has smell. It has voice. Sound. You are embraced by music. Looks like you are full of ears. You are Inundated. You feel. You don’t see.
The laws of physics change. You exit the tyranny of gravity. You start to believe. You gives science fiction some space. To the new dimension.
You easily dive in the white pages. You feel thirsty to fill it with words. You are an original explorer. Looking for those who can carry your images.
You laugh at the time. One step at a time. You load words outside the lines. You conquer the right to live. You try hard. Joy fills your pity. You forget the human rules. Your wants is your new hunger.
An unrelenting lack numbs the move. Without knowing you follow your instinct.
People hardly accompany people. An unknown. Fate. Star-cast gun on her smile. It goes through the moment. A photo in the universe. Indelible trace.
You take the road counting the steps from it.
To hurt.
Punished that you lived it.
