Entitled

Photo by Юлія Вівчарик on Unsplash

Entitled, falsely inside her tragedy,
warm sunsets in Tuscany revive her soul, whence it never existed.

Jesus, what have I really done?

Mother, your sold sold me down the river,
shook the underground of my father’s reclusive end.

Cold apparitions beat inside this chest,
lungs battle with desire for love, it was never supposed to be like this…