en
29 июня 2026 г., 15:00
I hate myself for needing you so much.
I need you to be my self-hatred medicine
and pain relief, injection and a crutch.
I love you, but my love is just a grudge
that I will hold you to.
/I am no Keats or Tennyson —
I tried to be poetic and I failed,
my pride just lost its one and only shelter/
my heart is such an opposite of pale.
this filthy beast is deadly and unwell,
but deep inside it's oh so soft and gentle;
I feign indifference, hide behind the veil
with you somehow commiting break and enter.
/we try to see a cave through two-way mirror
my shadow is performing one-man show
sometimes it all seems easier and clearer
and then you take a guess, and make a shot
and flash of it is blinding me like lightning
I hold my breath and count and wait for thunder
I dream of dreadful storm that you remind me
please, come and wake me
from this endless slumber/
I'm shattered by your hand, not simply broken.
collect my parts, surrender my debris,
assemble me, for you it's just a breeze,
you know the key — remember words unspoken —
I'd rather choose to stay than to be free.
the scarlet thread around my neck, like collar,
like wave, you push and pull onto the shore.
my tears are painting you in watercolor;
they say that all is fair in love and war —
I think I just can't take it anymore.
we're nothing but a specimen/a scholar,
observe me reaching
for your fleeting warmth.
