as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

It takes Corona waves,
For the world to stop crying.
If you listen closely,
maybe you will also embrace the silence.

Would you still love this land after it has been destroyed by those who claimed it as their own?
        
Would you still fight to protect it, after they burnt the wheat fields and the green canopies to the ground?
        
Would you still respect it, after time and again it has been cracked apart and exploited until there was nothing left to take?
        
Would you take pride in a forgotten land with no name?
     
Would you still wander the land, after it's soil has been poisoned by foreign nations?
        
Would you still look at this land with tenderness, after it has fallen in the hands of filthy pirates and conquerors?
        
Would you still find beauty in this land, after it's diamonds have been traded for stones?
        
Would you listen to the wind of this woman, that has nothing to offer but ruptured songs?

You put colors to my life
never realized that
putting all the colors together
will make my world dark.

You hated yourself
Before anyone hated you.
And you hated them, they don't understand you.
And you bled trough your eyes
Before anyone saw you.

Only at night do they come out of the underground, of their ***** creeks 
And is in darkness that they truly thrive in. 
Waiting for the awakening, 
They don't sleep.

Quietly waiting for the sun to set,
So they can fully rejoice eating each other's flesh.

You can almost feel the desperation in their hisses watching as the moon becomes their God,
Worshiping the darkness as it embraces and consumes the above.

Anxiously anticipating the souvenirs of the night,
Savoring how they will carve and engrave each other's eyes.

In plain daylight, you can almost smell the poignant stench they bathe on,
As they helplessly conceal the guilt from their nocturnal hunts.

As the city lives they remain thirsty animals, among their own, among cannibals.
And only when scarce shadows pace the empty streets,
Do they indulge in it for what it tuly is,
And can be who they truly are:
Rodents, hiding in the dark.

AM