In-sono

E o maldito sono que veio, deixou um recado na minha porta, mas sumiu? Deixou também um pacote, parecia ser de comer. Arrisquei, não estava com fome mas a língua falou alto. Tinha gosto de caqui.

Horas depois, percebi o erro que um sentido me levou a cometer. Tremores. Pensamento confuso. Sensibilidade exacerbada. Eu estava eu mesmo elevado ao cubo. Difícil andar entre as pessoas deste jeito. Não queria machucá-las com espinhos sem controle, e não queria ser corroído pela pele ácida delas.

Inútil fugir. A confusão de raciocínio me faz me aproximar dos cáusticos incautos. Eles falam sem pensar, eu penso sem falar. Ouço o que não espero, não falo o que quero e todos saem impunes. Tento me situar, as pernas pedem alforria, pedem mais sangue. A mente drena tudo. O corpo perde pontos, perde partes e se parte.

De volta à oficina. E desta vez estarei espreitando o sono atrás da porta.

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