I want to write whispering in the middle of a long night, with my heart hidden between my neck and chest.
It is late and I feel like I'm losing the one-on-one I challenged myself to.
I dress in my skin showing my best face and pretend to know
to know what I am doing,
to do what I want,
to want what I need.
OCTOBER 30, 2023 (Translation)
YOU ARE READING
The Internet is Not Real
PoetryTinged with blue light and red eyes, to the warm of heart. Thirteen months of poetic texts and thirteen illustrations. (También en Español: El Internet NO es Real)
