a work afraid of its own name
Originally written some time in June of 2022, before the creation of this website. What happened to inspire this poem you may perhaps guess. It is not the most technically skilled, but I consider it an authentic expression of my feelings, addressing something I still do not like to speak about directly.
you will move through life
like a ghost
in search of an image
to inhabit
and become real
you have no form
(of your own)
and when your mind dissolves
and someone has a shape
to give you
your body will betray you
and follow along
it's definition
that's what you wanted,
isn't it?
and when he probes your wounds
and he licks your blood
(tears you apart)
your face will betray you
and smile at this
it's sensation
that's what you wanted,
isn't it?
you will look at this
and find yourself molded so successfully
and shudder
is this how you become
real?
you will address yourself like this
in abstraction
because you cannot acknowledge
that form
(as your own)