Neurasthenia

 
maybe could
tattoo my
blood
on my skin

scratch my
DNA
in a frame
by the wall
pieces,
of skin
on the carpet
at the door

forget my
genome
in the song
in good rhythm
without the smell
either motive or end.

scratch my
skin
in the park
at the foot of the mountain,
in the mirror
of my room
where you can't see me...
or in the wind
the nuisance of my fears.

expel my
sweet beyond honey
from my gallbladder
and leave me lost
in a nightmare
that I will have tomorrow.

in destinations
foreigners
of me
cup bottom,
in my poems
with tears and memories.

substance
so uncertain,
and vital,
like the fear of thirst.

intangible
and misunderstood
creature
without a name.

PAR