A body is a curse,
An all-consuming bruise.
A ticking timer clock,
An uncut strand of lock,
Waiting to be torn,
Wishing to morn
The person i knew before
To drown deep below.
May rotting, flowering body be my future
And a cradle be my past.
May a good life last,
So struggle i must.
Sharpen the jade,
So i will be made.
I will become my muse,
I will break this curse.
I'll carve my skin with a blade,
So i will be made.
And i will build myself anew.
Againnst all odds, i always knew.
Whatever Nature may bestow,
It still will be my all-time low.
So shine, my Misfortune,
Hide, my Treasure.
Write if you still can, my pen
Finnish this torn empty page,
Free me from this cage.
Free me from this rage.
Free me from...
myself.
I am an unfinnished melody.
My voice breaks apart
So one day i might...
One fling or flight...
One day or night...
I will be whole.
Риба, не анон
#зізнання #творчість @transmascua 🏳️⚧️
@transmascuabot