Taste Of Anger

I Made My Hand Inside

I made my hand inside,

My hand turned yellow, swallowing...

I lost it for a moment. 

I smelled disaster in you,

 Smelled horror in you. 

Then, I entered with my other hand,

Both hands inside and mouth open, 

Half of  word, half of consciousness, half of soul. 

The scourge of the body is that it attends in full. 

Oh, how I wish to remove one organ and keep the others.

My hands are inside,

And I want to lose it and forget it all, 

Forget the intention, the decision, the rage, and the thoughts. 

Instead of tying up my hands, let it remain inside always. 

What am I doing now? I have forgotten myself and I want to sleep. 

My hands are inside, and I'm in front of me.

Do my hands create another one who resembles me but is not me?

I'm waiting for you to bring me back from my versions,

And if you lose me, don't forget me, 

For I won't forget myself.

Regenerate response