I don’t know what you were or what you are,
But I don't like being followed.
Don’t tell me what to do, I’m real you’re not,
People can see you but they don’t really see you.
They see me stretched out on the concrete,
I see you, mocking me everywhere I go.
When we are alone, you step out from under me,
Climbing the walls and the ceiling.
Maybe I’ve misunderstood you,
Maybe all you want is to be free,
Well, get in line, me too.
Alejandro Barton-Negreiros, ’23