I never but knew the hair,
clamped behind,
your pony-tail.
It smelled sweetly
like how mice,
can't handle
the smell,
it's a vampire
of garlic
but to me,
so sweetly.
Its hypnotic.
Lavender
of tender.

I don't care of their pride,
wasn't all bad at Church,
Easter time,
hunting eggs,
abandoned
the fall
and fragility
of the weight,
Now I am
a smash hammer.
and side flannel,
not anything
but the birth that brings,
and rinse water springs
I unleashed all my demons
They were behind a wall before this,
before I began to write my poetry.

baby born, so much joy,
and now I'm just the decoy
or maybe just the folly,
but nothing to bring jolly,
The mistake was thinking
these bricks could be smashed in
and finally I could conquer this.

I thought I could face the past,
that was my first mistake,
I try to be better than the bad,
but events of me so mad,
Necrophiliacs would feed,
upon my **** flesh,
Its been graying,
since inside of mornings.

I hate every part of me.
Its always been like this.
The children threw rocks & sticks
as I was this so called Alien.

I'm trying,
I'm struggling.
humanity,
I see the light,
with good souls
but did these good
souls,
threw those sticks
and hiding
within bushes
every night?

One day I'll come home,
To bask in golden sun,
To swim in bluest waves.
Through wheat fields, I'll chase Persephone,
Knowing I can't save her,
Yet love will prevail—
Dramatic kisses beneath erupting Etna.

I long to meet among Greek ruins,
To explore Phoenician treasures.
I wish to be engulfed in the aromas
And candor of happy vendors,
Filling fresh markets all morning long.

I dream of your quietness,
And the loudness of passionate people.
I ache for home,
My sweet Sicily.

Sicilian translation:

Un jornu mi ritornu a casa,
A vagghiari di lu suli d'oru,
Pi nutari nta l'unni cchiù blu.
Attraversu li campi di frummentu, haju assicutari Persefuni,
Sapennu ca nun la pozzu sarvari,
Eppuru l'amuri privalerà...
Vasati drammàtici sutta l'Etna ca scuppia.

Anziamu di 'ncuntrari ammenzu a ruvini grechi,
Pi esplurari li tesori finici.
Vuliu èssiri nghiuttutu di l'aromi
E candor di vinnituri filici,
Riempi li mircati frischi tutta la matina.

Sunnu la tò quieti,
E la vuci di genti appassiunati.
Mi duluri pi casa,
Sicilia mia duci.

oh yes, but would you like to see me smile?

i stand above the bathroom sink,
staring in the mirror
under the flickering light over my head.
the dark circles, familiar—
a pair of scissors, one hand twitching,
strands of hair lying in the wash basin.
i chopped my hair in half,
shredded, shaggy layers framing my face.
a smile of freedom, one of acceptance,
the glistening madness in the eyes unsaid.

i stir what once was my skin,
now mere blood—tying myself to this life with an oath,
my ode to swear, to protect and to stay
true to my kin.
cruelty vibing in chaos-kissed violence.
how many times do i shed this skin
until it's not me who remains in the mirror,
and i finally forget my own name?

babies grow old into something brutal—
monsters that walk this place,
sing lullabies to their own preachers.
i've slipped and fallen and i've been left behind,
but the board i'd been playing upon
it turned upside down.
here, the world relies on my head.
i've got the ceiling under my feet,
the skies in my chest.
every ragged breath speaks a tune—
a horror comedy, ransacked, askew.

anew, this curse—
laughing while running through a field,
landmines under my feet.
drapery of melancholy, slips forsaken, hugs me tight.
the curtain of reality—i tear it half.
hands reaching out as claws,
drawing scars on the delusions.
there's beauty in forgiving,
madness in illusion.

once again, again, and again once more.
sixty-one days crossed out on the calendar
that once held way too many promises.
the ladder of failure and of persistence
carries bodies drowning in trying and abstinence.

there isn't any exit in the end.
the broken headphones,
cacophonies of blown-out candles
and half-smushed chocolate cake—
a brief history, periodical, falling,
hell-bent trying to be treacherous,
reaching out to pull the noise from music,
leaving raw voices, hearing them bruise.
archive this, paint the mess, click a picture,
write a note, believe the misplaced faith.
chase that feeling,
run half a mile toward the grim.

oh, but do you see the lights
when you close your eyes?
shattering silence.
the dance of a rugged doll—
i turned her key thrice, and once more.
better to be safe than sorry
amid the growing legions of undeterred regions.
do you hold her or stay near?

tsk, tsk, tsk—sounds of your begging,
faking every emotion, every gathering.
these masks of clay, carved to stone.
pity, pity, pity.
do you even remember who you were before?

empathy is a sin disguised as understanding.
sympathy for the weaklings.
you're playing monogamy,
devour the strength of the flies and the snickers.
tattoo yourself with flames—
let them draw in the scorching heat,
watch them be triggered.

sinners walk this place,
absent, indigenous—
they'll perish soon either way.

proclaim the promises in disguise
of gods for whom you pray.
metamorph into frankensteins,
surrender fascism—
believers of the wrong truths.
mercy shall be provided to you.

i might be the villain.