Double aphasia.

Backwards
to the
happenning
world

Tortugas.

Epiphanies
spawn
and
become
dead
before
became
ink & paper.
And the sea is always there.

Nails.

To sit down
to
   look
breathe
describe,

scribble
      some
notes

The lost war.

The thing is,
she said,
that
my soul
is like a nazy lab
swollen
of experiments
that never seem
to stop
           going
                 wrong

And then
she left,
elipsys
of
   my
       last
defeat.

Paranoia Hope.

Paranoia
was wrong.
There wasn't
anybody
there.