I'm Karonte.
When the "I am" did not get stuck in my throat I could say anything. I said this and that and then my words were dressed in flesh and, as they went, they chased me.
Now I just try to say the opposite words, those that end with other words and are released from you, you know? And they make you chiaroscuro, at the end of your days. Surely you do not know.
Are you one of those who say and bind with voices? and you embrace in the "I am" more powerful and then in another and in another and every time you walk slower because you are what you say and what you are now overflows from you.
If it's tomorrow, I say "I'm not" and when the biggest ceiling comes up, I'm "I went".
Soon we will say: "I was a poet" ... for now I will say that I am not death. When I was I felt the words on my chest and shirt.
I uttered my complete hell and now I am here pretending that I forgot the face of the demon that follows me.
But I was a poet and I walked, I vomited excesses through the streets ... I stopped being a man and I was the lie of my being ... I lied my complete truths.
Today I am nothing and I'm dying more quiet.
I appreciate your visit.
Personal design: @Karonte.