Cause I am Green


Bread

Theres just one piece of bread left; everyone is expecting for it. My mother, my father, my sis, my bro and the grannie are staring at it… they want it so badly.
The grannie starts: ‘Im an old woman, arent you ashamed while trying to take the -maybe- last bread away from my sight? I deserve it, Im tired, i need energy, you are all so alive; i dont eat that much cz bread messes up my stomach… You all may eat stuff like that whenever you want. Please give it to me!’
Her daughter said: ‘Mom, you havent done anything in the whole day! You are just sitting there! every day! every hour! every minute! every sec! You dont even spend the energy you get while breathing. You should be ashamed! im your daughter… you should take care of me, and sometimes sacrifice your self for me! Ive been cleaning the house and doing laundry the whole day; I deserve the bread’
Her lover wasnt that happy: ‘Cleaning the house, humph, bull shit. You woman go get a job and then say youve had a hard work today. Having a boss… every day seems awful, you just want to quit everything and be a hippy, but you cant, cz… you cant!. I work, I get the bread; I said’
My brother: ‘Im growing up! I need to eat more than you all do! I biologically NEED that bread!’
But my sis yelled: ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP! How could you just even think about fight for a piece of bread!? Couldnt you just share it?… Anyways I had a terrible day and I am tired, so the bread is all mine.’
[…Silence…]
And then I came in through the door: ‘I brought more bread!’.
At the end I ate the old piece of bread… but Im glad i got home in that moment… maybe a few seconds more and they 5 could have been down in the floor taking punches in their faces for a piece of bread…. Bread!

PD: Someone long ago told me this story was a theathre show or… whatever… couldnt remember. So not my idea.


Schizophrenia

Hey, My name is John Alexander and I am schizophrenic.
Im not attractive, so not even photogenic.
My best friend is a clown that advises me,
he has frog eyes and lives inside of my ear.
He talks a lot, and sometimes he gets angry,
and when I ask him something, he almost never answers me.
But he would die for me, and I would die for him;
we both also know we are a lot different.

People think that I am crazy cz I run through the streets with my notebook,
talking to dogs; with shorts and cowboy boots:
an umbrella in a hand and a bullfighter hat.
But I am not that crazy I also talk with some people,
I tell a lot of lies to play with their minds.
I like to give wrong adresses
so people alwas get late to their destinations.
I am with two fairy godmothers flying arround me
that carry syringes full of vitamins with morphine.
Till my veins flood.

Cz I use to do grins and people get confused.
Im sorry if Im laughing too much;
Its just that yesterday died my mother and i got fired;
I owe 6 months rent, in my wallet not even a cent,
and I dont have a shower since october last year.
I have my body all scarred,
with deep slashes and first grade burns.
But its nothing importante, nothing delicated,
its jsut that i never realize why am I all day anesthetized.

I like to walk alone, taht way i talk to wind
Ive never had sex like a nur in a convent.
Quiet; even knowing that i could explote
in a momentary way like a mine in the world war II.
Im an antisocial psycho-maniac
After shaking hands I wash them with anti bacterial soap.
I AM A MENTAL PATIENT; I ADMIT,
BUT THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LOOK AT ME TWICE OR TO TREAT ME FROM AFAR.
Come get closer, i wont  do anything to you,
that thing that looks like blood in my shirt is spilled ketchup.
Come, little friend, get close to me, the scissors I have are to cut the backyard.

Sometimes come doctors to visit me
with ghost disguises to try to make me laugh.
Because I suffer disorders; yesterday i put my cat in the oven
and i hunged up his tails in my neck as an ornament.
When I get to my episodes i start to sweat sodium
and I scream very hard so I can take hate out.
I also get scared of shadows
thats why i dont to the bathroom, and I shit on my carpet.
Its normal; I am just 13
I still bicycle and I dont talk to strangers.

But if I dont take my pills along the year
every night I dream about hurting you.
To cut you to little parts with these scissors;
to put you in plastic bags and to save you in the freezer.
Dont get scared, I took my pills today
Im in a good mood, pretty happy with pro breath.
I know that I have a serious face but im glad.

Right now Im going to play with my friends at the cemetery;
actually, Im inloved with one of my friends,
Last year she died without fingerprints nor witnesses.
She is a pretty girl with a purple face,
every night she goes with me to bicycle.
She doesnt talk becz she is deaf-mute
and thats why people think im talking alone and  that
I need help