Vertical Landscape by MMRK

I have left my patience, submerging my feelings in the rituality of habits. I don't remember which hands I touched that night before I found my body dreaming of burning churches.
Getting up is the first step to shower under the shyness of my unexpressed diversity.
When I start to walk, I stay focused on what the music I'm listening to can communicate through my bones and features, creating a gap between what I feel and what I see, making it impossible to rest in an oasis in the emotive desert of patriarchy.
Every step I take is the internal realization of a constant decomposition of idols.
My skin gets dryer, desperate for the scent of the sea. I'm always looking at the sky, suffocated by the buildings.
I should choose different landscapes to avoid becoming like those disconnected earthlings.

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