The Mediocre Cure for Hypocrisy in Coma (Digital Placebo)
Author: D’Bara Arruda

The worst death for authenticity
is when one falls into the limbo of inspiration
and imagines that the greatest torture of a lit bulb
is not having to shine,
but the lament of insects swarming around it in search of warmth.

A hug holds the same importance
as the cocoon that transforms
a crawling being
into something beautiful and filled with vivid colours.

And the poetry in all this
is that the butterfly doesn’t care it has just one day to live…
It flies free.

This blind view of mine
in a world controlled
by auditory deficiency
and silent ethics.

And the words?
— they are the warm breath,
carriers of microorganisms,
airborne infestation cycle…

Achoo.
Bless you…