Confessions Poem by Hana Kovacevic

My cheeks blushed, I was rather shy
„Who is she and what does she look like? '
She is only a vision, a phenomenon of sort
But underneath the thin layer of beauty
Lies a box, or a few

One filled with subtlety, doubt and self-hatred
One filled with satire, masculinity and a rather ignorant mentality
One filled with knowledges, her wooden shields
One filled empathy, that everyone perceived as pity.

„When will she go out', my ego asked me
„Only when you find the essence of the dark.', answered he.
Frightened to death, I gasped and I screamed,
I growled, I ran in fear!

What do I fear, you might ask?

I feared the repetition of the past
But I am not my mother's ignorance, nor my father's arrogance
I'll rise from the ashes of my ancestors.

My strenghts are coherent to my weaknesses,
my weaknesses to my strenghts.
One of my makers fought in a war, but now I'm fighting mine.
But I am not a warrior, nor a princess
I am a commandant of my thoughts, my actions and my body.
I am not Marilyn, I'm not even Lisbeth
I am not Alice in Wonderland.
I am not confused.

If my poetry equals madness,
Then you are likely sad.
I will fight my own battles
Dare to join my army?

But ask yourself any question
And answer it yourself

Even though it seems foolish sometimes to question
But it takes courage to answer.