poesie

bölvun

and then you look at my hands,
with contempt and disgust,
bare your teeth at my reflection
and scream
"what have you become?
what horrid, accursed beast took over
your ivory bones?",
but you do not understand.

you are my curse, and
i am your sin to atone.
you made me.
you carved my mouth into a grimace,
you broke my ribs into spikes,
and now you are afraid of holding me?

you do not have the right to hate me.
you do not have the right to reject me.
you do not have the right to curse me.