I let it: poema de Sonja Ciel Nieves

Jan Frans De Boever, 'El pacto', gouache sobre papel

I let it

I let it.
I let myself go.
This thing that lurks in the grass.
Crawls down my thighs.
It's yours,
Take it
Now.
I can not stand this horrible silence.
This tedious distance,
between your mouth and mine.
During the daytime, hope comes.
Some sudden breeze,
and then it leaves.
Stumbling under neon lights.
Smelling of cigarettes and wine.
That machine.
It takes videos of us.
It plays my favorite song.
And for a second I'm in control.
Then it fades.
That sunset I wanted so bad.
Forever, I yelled.
But you didn't listen.
I'm replaceable and dirty.
A disease that needs to be cured.
I smile whorishly .
You smile back.
It's nothing.
It means all.
Tell me,
you want to end me once and for all.
Buried deep.
I feel the damp ground in my arms.
Some sort of violence, ripping my chest,
penetrating my skin.
Over and over again.
That smell.
I can't stand it.
Just come.
Do whatever you want with me.
I beg you, please.