What can a slave offer anyway...
That's the mind of the slave masters and the slaves... What an epical irony transmuted into the genes of the future.. so says, it goes The sins of the fathers...
The slave dealing of ancient times, the mill might have been removed but the wind still blows

whatever i touch
turns into tragedy—
Midas wishes his hands
were made of mine.

i dare not touch
trees and their leaves—
their old age
will not matter
once i graze their skin.

i do wonder
if everything good
that comes are worthy
of my ruin—
they quickly turn
sour and ugly
once they,
finally,
rest their heads
on my lap
and i am left here,
once again,
picking up the scraps,
telling myself
nothing incredibly,
or inherently, bad
has happened yet.

but what if it comes?

what if the world
decides to put
the blame on me
and punish me
for simply being alive?

should i keep
crawling back
to life?

or should i
accept the fate
i have been given?

someone
that plows intimacy by the use of words

someone
that imagines by the use of words

someone
that touches by the use of words

someone
that cries by the use of words

someone
that dies by the use of words

someone
that hates by the use of words

someone
that loves by the use of words

someone
that kills by the use of words

someone
that wakes  up by the use of words

someone
that heals by the use of words

someone
that you know by the use of words

someone
that you want by the use of words

someone
that paints, lives, teaches, grows, speaks,
works, hugs, cleans, protects, keeps, creates, listens, ...
by the use of words

someone
that makes the world rise by the use of words

the
   devil
         put the
              warmth
                          down south
                                             so man
                can call it
Paradise.

The touch of your hands, sweet memory,
The kiss of your lips, passion undefined,
Take me back in time when it was all love
Take me back in time when it was me and you against the world
Take me back in time when our bed was made of roses
Months and years have passed
Your thoughts are undying.

I'm on my way
fate cuts
fate blesses

I'm on my way
everyone hates
everyone loves

I'm on my way
and is insignificant
and beautiful

I'm on my way
and the path is wonderful
and the way is terrible

I'm on my way
I'm on my way
I'm on my way

I'm on my way

mom & everyone hates
me now, and all i do is
sit in the corner of
my lightless, cold, brutal
mind and carve images of
words that mad me cry all
over these arms.