I kissed the hands of my mother
and the pointy fibres at end of my bed
Scratched my cheeks, I lost a few cells.
Her hands they smelled like fish
I don’t like the curry
But I eat it, Mamma’s hands.
While At school my teacher asks me
Why are your cheeks red
How did it cut,
I said I’m blushing, my lovers kiss.
My bed is my lover
And it’s fibers their tongue.
Love is a four letter word
And for me they’ve always switched places with pain.
Nobody knows this but
A crab lives on my throat
He makes out with the octopus in my chest at noon,
That’s when Pappa treats me so unwell
When I indulge in poems and paintwells.
He doesn’t know there’s masterpiece waiting in my heart
And I’ve done the sin of letting a crab love an octopus and
This sin I won’t confess.
But Pappa isn’t the only one
Who treats me so unwell.
My psychedelic dreams does that to me as well.
I once saw apparitions of my poetry
Which looked like a ghost tower
Screaming on my naked ears
‘write me’ ‘write me’
I didn’t listen, paralysed legs.
That day is the day poetry left me
For I wedded a dream.
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