This is my birth of your core
Are you round or square?
Basic rounds,
I would live on the endless,
Without lines crushing.
I belong to the forest;
To the wild, to the birds,
Flying from reality.
This field is without opportunity,
This grass is without a cat,
Is it definite generosity?
Or that alcoholic breath
In those child fights?

Sometimes you are the vibe,
But where is the body?

I dragged my body into this void
There was nothing but
My mirrored skull.

I’m a poem today,
Rhyming with this dispirited life.