No one understands why I return here
in this place with only one muse.
I don't get it either, completely.
...
One day
I started writing
poems...
or
...
I hold her breath
in my mouth
and wait for her
to gasp
...
I believe you could be something
than all us who tell you how pathetic you are,
would hate, for being beautiful
...
I grew up on the things you
threw. I fed on them
my entire life, I fed on you,
...
My poetry
is not about death.
I hate death
almost
...
I'm so proud to be lonely
in my soul
and not just here
on these pages
...