MAD

by M. A

It’s insatiable.

Me.

I’m mostly addressed to disobedient kind of behavior.

It’s drinking thing.

It’s cutting my left arm and carving a name of SILENCE.

SILENCE it is.

I am sinking.

I got thrashes everywhere in my life that everybody cares to touch but me.

I don’t even give a damn.

What time do I have to wake up every morning?

Is it boyfriend who decides? Mothers? Or girlfriends up here in my place?

No one will decide.

Because I don’t hear anything before I close my eyes

I’m already blind.

I’m deaf as well.

God, I am departing back to the past.

The past the past, that has never been sensed as a past.

I loose my integrity when I’m thinking of it.

I can’t trust myself; I’m just going to throw everyone a mess.

My oh my,

Anybody in the world might have thought about sex, might not they?

It’s already sniffed that every couple doing at least kissing each other and put hands around another?

That’s good. That’s good.

Well I am sick of it, the fuck of it.

Where’s the marriage, which every religion has suggested, to get a higher point of life?

It’s autumn and I still miss that touch.

Sometimes I feel regretful to be born here and suck in this air.

But who the fuck could I blame on?

No one, because I am no coward.
But I am blind and deaf, as an accent to stay who I am myself.

The fuck.

And the marriage could loose the touch moreover.

And the couples would stay close at each other.

Amen.

Possibly, I am poisoned.

Could be disillusioned.

In wakefulness.

I enjoy saying that I insist for pleasure.

No matter how boorish people will critic me,

Such a pity, mercy it is.

I am blind, and deaf aswell.

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