2013-2

When I think about the boat that floats within my chest

crossing the ocean of my lungs and delivering gloom into my heart

I shiver in pain feeling completely lost and insane but then

I sense tons of words waiting for my touch and

it is true I sense their presence when I break down and

for a moment I am able to comfort my troubled thoughts

by drowning myself through an empty paper or something;

my legacy is fruit of an experimental addiction I feed with poetry

and phrases and sentences and stanzas and pages of dionysiac words...