about the people around me or at least the ghosts that haunt me-writing childlike rhymes is like writing on the wall in our room-this verses are like children holding hands-I never learned anything from school-except that when your knees bend it hurts-except that your knees are not plastic-not even soft not even hard-the Barbie dolls I took at school-and played with during classess-they were replaced by books-even on the shelves-I started taking books at school-instead of anything else-this is the neverending story of remembering-until the future comes-with death-and no promises of an afterlife-not even immortality through something-anything
photos by Irina Gache | Bucharest, February 2015
styling by Raluca Roșu #aestheticscreator
www.instagram.com/dailytutliputli/
poem by Raluca Roșu #Iwrite | #dailytutliputli x #irinagache
