Not visible condensation of me

Sometimes I need to scream,

out loud, fiercely, no regrets

Needing the space to fill

with joy,

no matter what, rejoicing me

I open my wings and fly

I open my arms and fight

Not sure what is in front of me

I am the mirror of my craziness

I keep talking to myself

Running but staying awake

Awaking my senses to birth

The birthing miracle of life

Am I real?

My existence is here,

does it reflect?

My spirit is visible to the ears?

All mixed up in this jungle moth

Who are you?

Who am I?

But just the thread of a sad puppet

Broken, of course, replete

I can move as the exception of the logic

They say I’m paranoiac

Out of mind,

Out of this world,

Unrealistic fairy chime

Tiny innocent

A powerless

But my eyes are fluid

Wild river under the storm

Ferocious panther chasing the sun

I Will never be quiet,

but constantly on fire

Exploiting your fake peace

Here I am, I am this.

(October 15th, 2019)