Disappearance
Still on the same level
I disappeared again
although in another shape
and the environment –
this time a foreign country
Still unknown
and in my own
shade
collected from the
ashes
of greys
Walking, dressed in dead
masks
from my previous disguises
supposed to help me
yet only obstructing
my view
just being a dirty smudge
on the window
or a mirror
unimportant, unscheduled, unpredictable
but forcing a thought
a reflection
a word
with myself
where is no one else
to open my mouth
stagnated in concrete from a hollow soul
always asking for more
as if there was another hero
every time
waiting for me on the corner
waving his hand in a friendly gesture
for a change
instead of these
all monsters with human bodies and faces
*
August – December 2021
***
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About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
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