first steps
(don't blame on today but rather on any holly day)
(don't judge me, for i can hear and talk in dialects
of any demons, of fury, of sadness, of hell, of pain,
of the madness, of the terrors, of sleepless hours,
of the tears, of tortures, of darkness, and silences)
(don't scold me, for i've felt my own blood, freezing
and boiling simultaneously, or when i had and lost
the pulse, gazing thru the eyes of disappointments)
(don't insult me, for i know the taste of starvation,
the scent of the thirst and the isolation), (do not...)
wary, i propped myself on hopes' wall of a new day,
i used the energy of my own agony to climb at life,
i left my pain's music to guide me, accompany me,
and to orchestrate with all my cicatrices, at victory
there weren't any gods, weren't any saints, or devils,
but people, anonymous kinds, wearing proud, suits
of the indifference, cynicism, ignorance, arrogance…
so, (don't blame me, don't judge me, don't scold me,
don't insult me…), i won all my rights to be skeptical
accept my regards or, impolite, — (go fuck yourself)
