I'm just a poet who goes through existential crisis every second day
I don't know what it means to be a good man
I get angry easily and I scream, but I don't really mean it
I think about directors coming up with scripts for horror movies
Are they capable of doing horrible things that come to their minds? (or are they just left on the screen?)
My conscience wouldn't allow to give out such images
Yes, I think weird and I behave weird sometimes too
And I still dream of creating a superhuman masterpiece
Isn't it a dream of every artist?
But I'm just a poet, nobody who does not know what's right or what's wrong
And I'm see-through
My words are see-through like glass
YOU ARE READING
Random thoughts pretending to be poems
PoesíaPoems written in post-covid era, when my writing style had suddenly changed a lot, significantly affected and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Violet book and her post-NFR albums and by other circumstances still unknown to me.
