Instantes Perdidos

Instantes que se perdem na vida rodopiante e alucinada... Instantes escritos em poesia na busca da perfeição.

domingo, agosto 01, 2004

I Cut My Veins

Gently
I stroke the delicate skin
Over the veins.

I see the green lines
Spreading
Like rivers
On a plain
From my wrist to my hand.

I touched it
And felt the gentle
Pumping

This steady,
Peaceful,
Consistent,
Flow
Of
Depression-
Pumping,
Pumping,
Pumping...

And I feel the streams
Of desperation spreading,
Expanding
From fingertips
To neck
Until my whole body is filled with a
Coldness.

And inside my heart
A steady pumping
A steady pressure,
A gripping pain,
Mixed with turmoil
Of emotions,
Wars of thoughts

A storm inside,

Breaking me.

I have fallen into
A dark
Emptiness.

I stroke the veins
Repeatedly

Caressing my pains

Out flows a stream of
Fluid depression

Salty drops
running
Down
the curve of my lips

My body heaves
And falls in the rhythm
Of my pain.

And for today

For now

I do not
Find relief

From a blade
And
Flowing blood.


Assin: Arthe (2004-08-01)