Forgiveness…is that what I am seeking in the broken mirror?
Or am I learning how to feel again?
Redemption – all there is already is forgiven –
Or am I not deserving yet?
Psychological trauma. Every word returns to itself.
Am I striving to be a champion?
Or am I turning to rip myself?
I don’t know, and I am tired to pretend that I care.
It’s just I think… I constantly think
That I had enough grief in my share…
I jest. I laugh. I play –
Games and enchanted stories.
I guess I’ve been depressed for so long
I forgot how happiness feels.
It should be sad. It must be suicidal.
However, I jest. I laugh.
It feels disobedience. I feel obscene.
Amazing how I know the simple words and syllables and style –
How music takes me away; takes me as a virgin greedy for touch
And I bloom like a flower in the rain
Whitened rose in the warm winter dessert
And it looks like stars among dirt.
ACROSS SCARS AND UNIVERSE –
IT SCARES ME. IT DIGNIFIES ME. IT DESTROYS ME.
And I will be dead if decaying can be that.
Can it? Or can it not?