Poetry

Ice cube

You let me go.
With trembling hands, you ease the grip.
I slide between your fingers.
I kiss the air, ecstatically.
My ignorance sublimates to nothingness.
Death looks beautiful and latent.
I’ve collapsed with one touch.
Everything I see around me, only myself…
I’m dead, right?
“It’s a glass,” the reflection says.
I breathed with relief.
Did I need to do that?
I’m watching paradise.
I see your infinite look.
Flushed with anger,
flooded with tears.
Am I not worth forgiving?
Am I worthy of your suffering?
You pour the best champagne,
I’m fighting your ice structure.
As you melt,
I choke more and more.
I am drowning in glittering poison.
I’m rising, take me high.
I feel like I’m dying,
over and over again.
I see your eyes,
much clearer now.
You’re my fault, aren’t you?
You spill a few
tears in the meantime.
I have a mortal friend,
which spits a million words,
and it disappears in my poison.
I want your mercy.
Maybe my poison is your acquaintance.
I want to kill my pain.
I want to die
and to be born again,
like a tear in your eye.
I am worthy of your suffering…
or maybe I’m not?

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