Not the one that you think of.
The other one, behind the light.
Behind the broken nerves and the cracks on the walls
Behind all the dramas.
It’s not that one.
It’s the other one; the irrational one.
The “again it’s here”, “it’s talking, listen to it”
“It’s in pain”
And it does not let you stay
It only converts you and transforms you
And blows you away
I only wanted you to see the good A from “I Am”
To hold it tight in your hands
And your meninges and your greys
I wanted you to believe
And for this to remain
I wanted you not to know,
not to depend on,
not to change
Not to need to,
not to defend against
Not to grip from the “U” of “Us”
Not to negate,
not to wither
Not to squeeze your fists.
Not the one that I show
The other one;
the tough one,
the aggressive one,
the crybaby one,
The intelligent one,
the seductive one,
the immature one
The hysterical one.
No, never your shadow.
Only the ray on your wrinkles
And the wrinkle in your dreams.
If you dare.
sedimentary 