Odillon Redon, Melancholy (1876)
playing with the knife in front of the mirror on my 20th indian summer
feeling alone in a world of ghosts when I turned 18
lighting candles for my death at 16
till day zero when the storm shaped me
faithful to the dark cloud that oversees my ordeal
serene as the midnight sun sends its black light in my dream
confident that the army of sleepwalkers follows my lead
my hands burn as I grab the hatchet and cut down the tree
one for judas, one for eve
I have always been God
I can never be free
Reclame
