If you need to know if you are beautiful
The answer is not in the mirror, nor other people's thoughts
They use to say behind your back, stabbing you fearceful,
But in your soul that carries scars made by those who it loved.
With this in mind, how could I not
Believe the hate the humans filled
My mind and heart like a opened up
Voodoo doll with spanish mosk¹?
In war water² they have surely drowned
Every depth of my mind's field, my god's hailed
Thoughts about how the world should have been shared, like a round
Of twisted good and bad, like in a pristine tale.
Adonai³, have mercy for those who would
Heal the wounds and afterwards they would stab
In the same places they healed, as it would be an act
Of a vicious murder of a soul never intact.
Is love nothing more than a puppet of old habits
That was to be shared along the ones that fall in outrageous sin,
Like in a prolific web a spider design and inhabits
Through a machiavelic act of a foreplay, as he's a fiend?
My spider has built around me the Garden of Even.
How could I knew that one day it would have turned to dust,
As a lover is like a blinded horse running one way,
Getting fearful through the death to endure he must?
And my lover, poor him, he has a spreading habit.
Difficult to explain, but even so, my dear listeners
To this ugly story that was formed in one year:
It was one year of illness. You shall be its finders.
¹spanish mosk - material used in the making of a Voodoo doll
² war water - a result from a magick practice when there is used pond water, iron nails and spanish mosk, combined
³ Adonai - one of the 72 names of God in hebrew that people were afraid to pronounce
YOU ARE READING
Something I can't tell
PoetryI don't know why I wrote a fricking long poem and at this moment I am afraid to ask myself because I wouldn't like the answer. Hopefully, "Something I can't tell" won't turn into a sequel because someone should check if I am still myself and not som...
