She found herself
In the face of oblivion
The absurd crawling
Around her neck

She chose to venture
Like a servant risking
Her one talent
To obtain the heavens

"Will it come to nothing?"
She asks her God
"Is it all a mistake?"
She repeats to herself

But despite the uncertainty
A jewel of truth
Impressed itself in
The armor of her soul

In the gnashing winds
She found herself
In the eye of the storm where
She found her self

Not a single blow of wind,
Pushes my boat further.
Nothing plays with its sail,
So it neither goes north nor south.

Rain,
Hurrican,
Storm,
They all come and go.

But my boat sits there,
In the middle of the sea.
As if the forces of nature don't exist,
It sits there awaiting nothing.

people in their wholeness
can only be understood.

not explained.

To write a poem properly
That is my dream
But I can't even
Remove my mask
I don't even dare
To think quietly

All my poetry is failure
Spies that pretend
To be activists
A violent movement
A laceration
That bleeds black bile

Violence circle my mind
Like vultures around corpses
The sky is touched
By the redness of my cheeks
And I end up crying
Until night comes

What remains of my poems
Are dead organs
Words that fail at being words
Mouthful gibberish
What's left of my tears?
Acid rain