What I expect?

I take my heavy head in my hands, keeping  palms well closed to my ears 

so no sound can penetrate inside me but, while outside most golden silence 

reigns supreme, in my mind chaos is raging and it is piercing me with its 

sharp thoughts and it is raping my libs with its thundering images and 

it is lacerating my skin leaving me in many shreds, in many more strips than 

my body is composed by.

I slither upon corpses of my mangled emotions that I in vane tried to take away 

from destruction and that now are filling that abyss is dividing me from 

my happiness, and I clutch at anything tring to crawl me out to the chaos 

but it lives and it feeds on me.

I stand up trembling and I begin to run, I feel every part of me blazing 

like wood in fire, muscles are burning and acid is softly and relentlessly 

wearing out my thorat, my stomach, my womb and I feel breathless so much 

I wanted to breath smoke of my illusions ashes now are lying along my will’s slimy bottom.

I glace up, set, while I’ve glanced down until now, and I see in front of me 

the cold and detached blanket of  your indifference, of your ignoring me, 

that is suffocating skies and stars of my hopes while I let the same blanket 

drawning in and relishing my essence emptied of any vigour by now.

Worn, disillusioned, disenchanted I abandon the last piece of my will 

and I bow down resigning and submitting to the decay of my reason, to the 

pain of reason, to the pain of me that I never want let go and I need 

to have ignored you smelling my hair, you wanting another hug, you looking me, 

facing backwards, going away, but I crave for keeping that memories still in me.