exit

my senses

died

in a toy-church

when I was young

and still unknowing

lovable

but didn't know

what love was

I dreamt of wars

beyond the level of my eyes

raging through the brain hills

and no one was ever winning

it only ended with sweat

and my eyes wide-shut

and my mouth wide-open

filled with fear spilling over

like bread-crumbs

crumbling mountains

crippled limbs

floating serenly

through the endless vacuum

I knew this wasn't me

even though in my dreams

I kept getting lost

in unlit supermarkets

with empty racks that cried

in half-starved hospitals

where all the beds were waiting

for me

but I was just running away

trying so hard not to be seen

just looking for a hole

to shit and piss into

without being seen

and I never dared look up

to see if somebody else

is opening up the door for me

to pass through

so I escaped

through the crack

in my throat

the voice was tiny

but screaming like a boiling kettle

in panic

the impeccable mother approaching with an impeccable baby

perfect but braindead

walking towards me like in a lynchian movie

but all the light-bulbs died

saving me from the horror

I was spilled to the ground

still trying to find the form to take

but each day I'm sure more and more

that I will find

the exit.