Once I was sitting alone in my dorm where I never felt lonely, tired of the chatter of my body while looking at all the corpses piled up in a corner eagerly awaiting the birth of a great love

When .. ?

Where .. ?

Why .. ?

I don't know .. and I don't want to be trapped between the arms of a crazy life that loves to hear beautiful lies, and I paint in the dark part of my thin face that whispers with its wounds ..

A small smile that always sparks my smiling mother's curiosity

My mother, that poor fish who once wished to be a happy goldfish ..

The light was sneaking in through the curtains transforming the scene into something resembling a painting by "Renoir"

And a shadow I don’t know how to describe to you, as if it points to the place, taking nothingness in the depth of the color around the veil, maybe it’s pure hallucinations, and some prefer it hot between drowsiness and drowsiness ..

And I am a woman whose shoes were stolen looking for some time, a little food, and enough to buy a cup of coffee

In the back street, dear shadows at night are creatures not yet born.

It seems that I am not writing to you on this day, nor on this night, maybe now at this time when writing requires some mood

I feel lonelier than I was, that's what I feel .. !!