יום רביעי, 4 באפריל 2012

To the Woman I once knew


I've used you
in the worst of all possible ways
I've used you as my tool
to grow, to feel
to understand and create
to experience
what I couldn't alone.

I've stripped you
I've undressed you to your barest bones
and from your marrow's juice
I sucked
my poems.

I wish I could return it
turn it all back to you
to them
to those, who unknowingly
have been cheated.

I wish I could make amends
buy a flower
or some chocolate
and rejoice in nothingness
in sweet oblivion

I hope it will hurt me
more than it could ever hurt you
for the evil burn in hell,
but the exploiters -
for them reserved is the infinite;
the purity of lack,
the soulless soul of God
the pit – bottomless and wide
ever-sinking in the mire of their own demise.


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