about feeling unworthy of being happy..

Dragon ruler

How about dropping all emotional flower-decorations
And digging deep down the grave of the grey mesmerizing past;
I never was frightened of bad happenings, it was beauty,
that scared me up the closet - that's why I'm so running towards it;
Adrenaline makes me feel worthy of climbing rocks,
Of admiring seemingly impossible tales of warlocks and demons.
Never mind turning the light on, let me be wild for a while.
Who cares that it's night? People can be hurt anytime;
It's nice to be cut emotionally over and over again -
So used to the taste of being beaten up by life,
How could I ever face the other direction?
Would it bring me peace? that's not what I desire.
I can try to be girlish about everything, but at the end
My hands take over and they grab fate with such a
Masculine force, you see all the veins stick out
As if I was strangling a spellbound baby mouse.
So what if I didn't feel worthy - at least I dared to fight my own principles;
Not that I had many - at least I had fascinating once.
I'll survive the hurricane, just maybe not during this life time;
Maybe I will be treated like a lunatic: being sixty,
Singing songs on the streets and cuddling with hairy musicians.
Maybe I never was amazing, as I seemed to so many,
Always being called too holy - I considered myself such a whore!
But that's the thing with life and strength they love it raw.
I don't mind unrefined either; but then - there comes love,
That little pill going through the throat, right into the stomach,
Killing what nature wanted us to do, treating my soul gently
I doubt if it can handle such a stroking feeling,
It's used to be downsized and left by men of some importance.
Not in their position those probably would stay,
But those important to my screwed inner world;
It's as if God's son used a little screwdriver as a toy
Pulled out some screws with it, threw them upon the earth,
Men picked it up and ran - now I have to run after them,
If I ever want to come close to mending.
Mending would mean dying, but maybe that's my calling?
I won't jump under a train - I'll kill myself slowly,
Suffering on the inside, cutting people off,
Throwing build-up treasures of trust over board,
Until I'm the only one on the ship, the only alien on the planet..
Maybe then I truly will be holy, but Satan has strange ideas,
He might want to rape a holy creature, don't you think?
Maybe if I challenge him and strap him to the floor,
Even he'll get scared and let me through to rule the dragons?
I'll descend the steps, with my beautiful hair falling over my
Bony, elegant shoulders and seduce all satire creatures;
Drink holy water while making love, spit fire while rubbing pain
In their faces, live in sin and roll in sugar caramel.
Anyway - humanity is just a weak source, not being able to tame me;
I'm hitting stronger than the wind, no matter how breakable I look,
Exercising my power, I rule those whom I chose from the crowd
But is it a good thing? That's my doubt...

Poetry by FrancescaLuca
Read 503 times
Written on 2006-12-04 at 22:26

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

Aye, I know this feeling well. This is such a raw look at you--your emotions..thank you for pouring your heart out into this poem..fantastic!