Sometimes this cracked wall turns its blind eyes on me, my body weighted down by the mattress carrying the floor.
I dream of a quiet life beneath this world. A life that goes on slapping against rocks, wearing stone down to its splinters.
In my room, waiting is everything. The mold on the wall draws a snowman while it waits for the crumbling built into my life to begin.
📸: Techno Pova Neo.