I don’t know
if I should
grab a pen
or a brush
so
I grab a pen and paper
and instead of
write
I
erase
I think
about buildings
lately
and how the rich
build towards
the sky
and the poor
towards
the earth
while heaven is up
and
hell
is always
down
Days go by
slowly and
with a quiet sound
that I now start
to understand
my plants
are steadily
growing
reminding me
that speed
is a subjective
matter
while I begin
to doubt
about the
meaning of
it all
The time is
03:47
and my
heartbeat
is older than
an hour
I can’t say i am
my best
self but
I am for sure
my favorite
until today
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