Proof of Live Birth
I've been expelled from the everyday life
by clocks' ticking
I keep on waking up enclosed
in an expensive box...
On bare walls I hang up my imagination
It's unframed and wild -
A bitter-sweet Freedom keeps haunting me:
to FLY with a family of pelicans to the unknown
or to DIE all alone
under a freeway overpass...
I see my fingerprints disappear
one-by-one...
I am writing this as PROOF that
I existed in a World where
ink is Invisible and echoes are Mute...
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Iolanda Scripca 5/14/2016 |
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