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020302 At 2230
Asking to see the light, I don’t recall
exactly 60 days after God witnessed my fall
bigger than this place, couldn’t afford to take me out
then escaped from my parents as soon as I could
came to this world wanting them to cry for me
cause I couldn’t even speak even breathe, this burden still be
wondering how I managed to live till now, prolly ignoring reality
based my life on maladaptive daydreaming since puberty
barbie usually got kidnapped and fell in love with the criminal
just to become one of a crying visual.
Back in the noughties I was friends with a blonde princess
made 50 drawings about the boy she liked for leaving me hopeless
but instead of giving them to him I burned everything
because for no man girlfriends become enemies
we played family knowing at the end everything was fake
but believed in magic for our own sake
and my father hates me for being smarter than him since 5
when I entered this society praying God to survive
all those constructs that made me panic at night
which good girls didn’t know how to fight:
at 7 I went on stage to recite a poem but got asked to do math
I still shake my head to clear that intrusive thought...
I soon took my surname for word in order to make friends
learnt to read Sherlock not to be bullied again
been called creative because I made up personalities
to be sure they didn’t exclude me like Pluto from the planets
being a pisces it happened to cry over cut grass
but listening to Avril tears soon turned into glass
the unbreakable see through armour teenage builds
to hide freedom of mistakes from your inner child.
And I had many classmates whose names I don’t remember
all copycats of someone who changed like the weather
because I couldn’t decide who I wanted to be
but I didn’t speak to a boy and they still paid me
I only shake for gad so I must have been mistaken
never made the move I would easily rather die alone
just like I didn’t put effort in anything and somehow succeeded
to always be the smart one who in the back of the room disappeared
always studied to be better than everyone I hated
I guess it was my mbti slowly developing along with my daddy issues
I can’t stand anyone but for that stranger I’d change positions
finding out that the glass I was into was soundproof
when I made a choice thinking it was mine
but I ended up in a circle and they couldn’t hear me screaming
did I fall in love with literature to escape this
I started writing on the glass fooling myself it was breaking
back then words and wall cracks were the same thing
but reading them now I’ve got 5 years wasted in pain
diaries of past which otherwise wouldn’t be made
learning to transcript everything in which I saw myself outside
​
on a mountain I’ve been given by the muses
the rhythm of life to taste joys and sadness
like wine of which naked truth relieves
the inner strife of lovesickness
for which muses sometimes become Erinyes
because I’m not looking for Oedipus’ happiness
more likely to fall in a well to take distances
while I find in nature a refuge from all miseries
and refuse to drink at the fountain of the streets
only my dreams can confront me in unconscious fights
and if one day I won’t love them anymore then I’ll live in lies
claiming I drank a poison trying to hide my secrets
cause I was afraid to lose looking so gave them to flames
and that a god ordered me not glory but to experience
wings of eternity through the works of ancients poets
so that if they’re true my corpse will never be yours
​
The real lesson is that pain produces
it makes an army out of an armour’s bruise
from where art finally includes feeling
the difference between looking and seeing
was meant not to find someone but what they inspired
and this road had always been the one I desired
but I only knew it when they said writers don’t get a paycheck
being born with Vincent’s soul not to be only known after my death
cause if they offered me a job for the rich I’d rhyme a denial
then talk shit about capitalism in a paid chat with an idol.
The roundabout overlooking the sea had taught me
to fall in love with people who don’t want me
when I first started to try for real the pandemic came
my empathy run away and I soon took the blame
of having always perceived love as a deadly disease
and that’s what happens to fathers every April
I started to miss so many chances not answering any call
I would’ve had less anxiety if they messaged me to hide a body
my shadow grew so big and I called it misanthropy
made my family think veganism was same as starvation
my fault of hating myself with a burning passion
yet believing I could surpass God in the same time wave
when I killed my grandma and didn’t buy flowers for her grave
but for me to watch time pass through them
and slowly go insane