ex-isting

I’m disabled to go very far

I got sticks instead of legs

And they don’t own feet

Neither plexus

Physical sensibility.

I’m disabled to go anywhere I feel like

I got no hands, no arms,

wings stirring instead

but I don’t fly

I fall.

I’m disabled to listen anything

My ears are broken

Profusely damaged

I have diamond rings

Spiked in the place of lugs

And sound is something crystallized to me.

I’m disabled to speak

I know no words

I lick no tongue

I don’t drink, don’t kiss, don’t eat

I starve to death

Every day until morning to sunset

And soon enough I get used to it

I’m empty.

I’m disabled of living

I own no heart

It doesn’t pulse,

It is quiet,

Damned,

Annoyingly silent

It doesn’t want to be granted

It has no kith

Only a solitary artery

Who depends on it since ever.

I’m disabled to defecate

I got no anus

No sphincter

Instead I have an eye

That weeps

And sometimes

He blinks too.

I’m disabled to drink

I possess no liver

No kidneys

Some bourbon would kill me

Absolutely fast

But I do own something:

I got a construction

An empire building

Of ramifications, veins, hemispheres

And it is all it matters

My material deconstruction, my misalignment

I’m able to feel, to live, to dream

I own some brains

And they support themselves with esthesia