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￭ My life. Mother of mine
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2008-01-01 | |
I'm looking at my self inside the glass
talking to my own reflection
while naked and mad
as much as tormented
by my own fears throughout my faulty navigations.
My hands and fingers
they bleed and ache
for I have punished my own existence again.
Through my own constellation of elementals
I'm standing at a bouyant piece of my dried brain
turning into dusts and sands little by little
now my self is asleep while descending
towards these pit of gloomy spaces.
Now my face is handsome
the perfect symmetry of my creations
but still I crash my self into ashes of silver coal.
Now it's christmas and chilly
I'm staring outside the window of my room
to witness the silky horizons
of aurora the so called undefined metropolitan
I wiped my alluring face for I have to do so.
I have the latino blood inside
but I can't take away the oriental seasonings
inside this racist's decaying body.
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