Your mind’s complicated – it gets so intense.
It’s a trait quite familiar which I understand.
You hunger for life
& always want more, more, more,
Yet you find yourself, once more, at death’s door.
Bottles, needles, blood and sex…
A passer-away becoming The Ex
Emphasis on ‘The’, in a poet’s head.
You break easily
Dancing to the tune of
Your goddess i.e. poetry.
Without The Poet & The Story
Your brokenness surpasses…
…Surpasses your glory…
Broken Poet, I hear your heart
Crack… Break… & split wide open…
You can’t mend it with a pen…,
The beginning of our tale – reassess!
In the beginning was the Word for
The Broken Poet & the Poetess.
By Monika Ribeiro
Dedicated to Adam