The neighborhood was drowning,
the clock has ordered marching but
the sun was already choking red;
it was too red, too late, to
peel off the standard paint
to regain ourselves again.
You were resolutely faded
seated, accepted, constructed
made up to meet the sane men.
You said that they fixed it,
beat it, stomped it and killed it
so that you could be
held back, one of them.
I wonder how I knew you
from all the dead men running to
get their hearts pulled out from their chests
just to belong, to have reasons well known,
because bleeding always makes