Pain, headache. Tightness, thorns.
"I feel abandoned."
This is a true poem.
This is a poem. This is all.
I would not like to bash life apart horizontally here, rather I need a true hug. This longing for a true hug is acid, that melts and instantly discards everything that is not a true hug.
This is like my mother in a hospital. It is now, it is happening now. There is no future solution for this, putting off problems. The frontier is now.
I manifest it for myself.