Dirty

There is no time for surrogate feelings. Trains arrive with other customers to serve.

I am the unit that stands shocked and frightened against the old white wall. This wall has been painted over and over. 

windows closed, just a small slot letting the tyrannical light in 

The light is sneaking like a nark, 

whole days filled with light. Screaming rays chase me down the street. 

My street

This is my street. Narrow trails- like snakes- climb up the hill, and old one-floor cottages all around. 

Uninhabited, silent monuments of an unimportant past. Salted nostalgia sprinkled day and nightfor whole years, and a bright chair I found in the trash.

I,conceiled identity, in oblivion 

An old anger’s remnant

We landed in a dusty warzone amid a traffic jam. 

Concrete and loud voices. Half-crazy eyes staring at us.

I was in my room, biting the cold, cold, bitter poison. He forced the tar into my mouth. It stained my teeth black, then entered my body; my eyes grew silent with shock. The time froze for a while on that bed, and then I sat outside on my balcony under the sun.

The light was there. 

Then the next days were not the same again

Father

Mother

Sister

House in the war zone with dust and wild mannerisms, I was dirty, dirty. A kid in slime.