I walk in hoodies and masks
on this mundane streets.
My mind buried inside
from greeting the traffic
by a thick fabric hood
knitted in threads of guilt
that by time have
made home over my head.
And I begin to grow garden in the dark
sunning the flowers
with the heat of my thoughts.
And watering it through
my perspiration of anxiety.
I walk in hoodies and masks
on this mundane streets
because my organs are scared
to fall out and make friends.
Sometimes when I walk
without a hoodie on
I see myself naked and bare
like anytime they would
come and drink the juice out of my flowers
and learn all the thoughts that I sowed
I see my skin melting with others
and dripping in a pool of
sleeping smiling faces
where there is no going back
once the pool makes you dead.
My skeleton shivers
when left so bare in the spotlight.
And it feels like
theyโre foraging at me
for them to survive.
So I put back my hood
before they visit and suck
my flowers of mad thoughts
and make all honey and money out of it.
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