The minimal sound
the chilled metal
the touch of a trigger
the lifeless painting.

Guilt is old enough to destroy a fortress,
journey is long enough to make it empty like a shore from the past,
sometimes it takes more courage to lose with a beer in hand and smile on face.

The invasions are convincing
and the will to have a free life breaks more noses than any other rough alleys of abrupt towns.

I can’t make rhythms
I can’t pass a week without thinking about letting all the defences go,
certain times the urge to write shits,
complete shits…
has given me a glimmer and a little courage every time I get to taste the rusty pitch.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Rya Wade.