sexta-feira, 20 de junho de 2025

29

You made me hate all of my bits.

He made me hate my smell
And how hungry I felt,
Until starving felt correct
And eating was a privilege
I didn’t get to have.

You two made me hate my showers
And brushing my teeth.

And it seemed
Like the worse it felt,
The happier you'd be.

Neither took the time —
Or wasted it —
To teach me how to tolerate myself,
Or all the feelings that I held

Dead silent in my stomach,
Until I was no longer a person.

You made me hate my hair

And taught me that destroying it
Was for the best — except
If it was my idea,
Then it was trash.

I was trash.
You taught me that.

You never liked my colors,
Always despised my clothes —
Not because of them, but
Because I was dressing them.
And I was the ugly duck,
Even if I was the only duck.

Even so, you preferred him —
Who wasn’t there —
And ignored my every effort
To make you happy.

I was bad, evil, mean, whatever.
I didn’t stand a chance.

And still I loved you three.

He called me dumb
Uncountable times.
He never listened
Until I screamed —
And then you called me “too loud,”
As if you weren’t
Selfish, as if you weren’t
Abusive, as if
You didn’t shut me down
Or mock me since I was four,
As if you didn’t force me
To be more —

And try, and try,
Until I got sick.
Then you blamed me for being sick.

And when I hated myself,
And had spent twenty years
Fixing both of you,

You two smiled
And told me I was loved
Very, very much.

But you were thirty years late.
Now I hate you back.

segunda-feira, 9 de junho de 2025

Paradoxo

O que é,
Só é,
Porque um dia já foi.
Se antes,
Não tivesse sido,
Nunca viria a ser.

O que é,
Só é,
Quando se torna.
Nunca antes,
Teria como
Ter sido,
Previamente,
Prematuramente,
Anterior.

O que é,
Só é,
Porque é
Antes,
Depois,
E infinitamente 
No presente.