Δευτέρα, 20 Φεβρουαρίου 2017

I want someone to know

Try and be honest with your poems.
Even though they are asking me to deposit myself and myself feels torn, myself feels expended, my self feels worn out and wasted in loves forged, sentiment invented.
I am scared I am going to touch the pen and bitterness will drip on the page.
And then my pain will have poisoned not only myself but the writing others will read.
This immortality is undeserved of you, even in the space of bitterness.
Through my love for a man have been inserted in me integrants of humanity that disgust me, that ridicule me for being human.
Within my anger lives the hate for the machinery that fabricated my optimism.
My existence is bleeding in the knowledge that you exist.
That you exist so quietly, so unnoticed from the judgements of others .
I told everyone what you did.
I want someone to know.

Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:

Δημοσίευση σχολίου