Your barking son

Seriously curved smile,
warnings of new middle age,
socks on noses,
how many tangible idiots,
roughly eliminated desires,
brushes my eyes,
they are sorted,
then removed to the nearest park,
your words rolled around me.
Jump from there to there,
come back and pay attention.
They talk; that's their language;
Love you. Mother.
Your weakened body, your fears and your voice.

I hear, understand and ignore
the noises from outside mouths.
Beautiful to be her taste.
Love can be your timeless touch.

This planet is rotten;
people blow horrible gases,
and they show their ego with enthusiasm.

Open-mindedness, for money, 

the desire for popularity, 

this attitude would be irrelevant,

in that world, you lived.

Countless amounts of false positive thoughts.
Barking back from behind the chair.

I roll again from the door.
I threw all words in the trash can.

Silenced harmony of disgust.
They do not care.
Valid passport. Valid life.
Amazing boredom with coloured lines.
Tap, tap, tap. Knocking in the morning.
More tappings. Chemistry of the AIs.
Demoralized signs of greed.
Stuffed noses from weather forecasts.
Party of pretend clowns.
Climbing to the podium.
Oral kings crowned with anxious tulips.
They stare at me from diagonally above.
They count the pixels between us.
I am not allowed to move.
No credit. The crazier, the better.
This beautiful macro is in my hypothetical body.
It needs more speed.
Retro and contemporary.
Brands, marketing, and taps.
Why did they radiate warm?
Understand. That needs to be forgotten.
Can I be similar? Crazy about self-love.
Yuhuuu, you are in this photo.
You were happy for a short time.
Damn, the photocells are covered by bad example faces.
Camouflaged warriors of small idiots.
You loved them while time blurred their outlines.
Similar slumps and crashes. I left you.
Living bricks of hate.
Around you and me.
This story harasses the purple dots around my left thigh.
Neckless of homelessness.
Drunken babyjelly.
No end to the end of the end.
Tap my forehead, and I'll beep.
Idiocy of my cauliflower head.
Rude imagination, then rude awakening.
Keep listening. Keep screaming.
Keep blah blah. Tap, tap, tap.
You should go on.
Being alone in the pub.
The ashtray is my best partner.
I thought of my mother's face.
The love I felt was unbearable and heavy.
Yes-clichés. Spinning doubts.
I can not believe I have parents.
The illusion of delusion.
The mechanism of Machiavellianism.
I have to leave you, mommy.
Apology and eye drops.
Sorry and heart poison.
I can not stay in this country.
It's a terrible cage.

You may never read this, Mommy.

You might never understand your son.
You might never understand how much I loved you.
Our innocence disappeared.
I will always love you.
Until my last breath.