Roses torn to petals
Falling from my fingers like
Acid rain in the city
I stare from the top of the 13th floor
And think about flying
I eat two bananas for dinner
I ignore the full meal next to the decaying peels
I get hit by a bike
I have no visible injuries.
I wonder what it's like to self-destruct
YOU ARE READING
the soft
Poesíathey say to be soft is to be powerful but it gets harder to believe that every passing day
