I knocked the door just to make sure that it shuts
back again. To close all the possible things between us, or maybe I don’t want
hurt myself again. I tried to smile but my dysphoria crushed my lips and weed
out my tongue and so couldn’t apologies neither couldn’t shout on your face. I
stitched my eye so that no one could see me cry but even then the tears tore
off my eyelids and the magma flowed into my sea of tears, it flowed until they
clotted.
[Artwork by Chen Ping]
And now I pricked my ear, and am deaf.
My inner self have turned rock.
Psyche doesn’t want to listen to your prickly
and sexy sedative voice.
She did warn me to stay away.
The old lady did stop me.
But I was all with you.
And now you don’t want to answer me.
And then.
Eight weeks passed, I knocked again.
All I got was something that hid everything
from me.
Am fine with it cause my emotions are on
dope.
Disgustingly
you are a swine.
Am the one misunderstood and taken the wrong way
all the time..
[Artwork by Zdzisław
Beksiński, 1984]
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