Bullet Proof

Many years ago
I used to feel
Bullet proof.
If someone asked me
About anything
I always had the answer.
Now
My bullet proof jacket
It’s broken
And every little question,
And every little comment
It’s like I didn’t know the language
In which they’re asked
Because I perceive undecipherable sounds
And have no the minimal clue what they mean.




Turned on the radio
And listened to the music
As loud as I could.
Don’t want to hear
My inner voice.
It’s like I’m trying to
Stop my brain from thinking.
I was asked
About my life, my future
Didn’t know how to respond them.
Days later still in the same situation.
Living in this country,
For many feels like hell,
For other it’s like whatever
And for the rest
It’s like the gen of golden eggs.
What do I feel?
No idea.




This music
Has a seductive vibe
That incites me to move along
Its decadent sounds
It's  really provocative.
That’s easier than thinking.
And so
I did.