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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required This is my story… A headless lighter, a writer Mix up with silver long metallic Make the agitations clear cold then warm Neurons from above became so clear I can hear my heartbeats like a doldrums Because I’m just a woman with a perfect body But now, it turned flat because of my past histories My body was an image of different sceneries and echoes That’s why I burned this five handed plant to disturb mosquitos That anytime can suck my blood from within, but their proboscis injected the smoke from the air it became toxin for my veins, a bad effect to alter my inner beauty and then the sensation… Where am I? This game was made by the influence of black society, Their intentions were white but the grey matter strikes Then now it became black… My past that filled with conqueror, with their influence They kidnapped my siblings, my children My past that burdened with rapist They took it all for me… everything… And now… recollections… The only way to forget these Is by getting in again with their systems Again use their solid potions To forget everything, my life, my history, my spirit Out of hue, Every time.. again… I see myself in black, I knew … But all have their end point of time… I want to find myself again… Where is Mary Jane?… The real, new… Mary Jane of Barangay Tibay I deduce, and then seduce it to bring back my old persona To write another chapter... but its too late.. I heard some footstep like a machinegun In this dark room where I have surrendered Since yesterday… Is this because, now I realize the real meaning of life? But he arbitrate that my half still in pain And still… Can a beast… can destroy the equity from the green inferno? In my instance, the beast coincide Like a cannibal longing for a fresh meat in the middle of extinction… … “Who are you?” “What are those?” Mary Jane Said. The looks were so unfamiliar He grabbed me… he undressed me He gave me what he think I deserve… All became so clear…. Finally I met Him… And there’s a red blanket everywhere My heart starts to stop My spirit try to comeback But then… I found myself at the ground, And then he found a home inside my body A grief for my grave There’s no chance to paint back myself
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