Michaela Coman

„Eu nu contest idealurile, îmi pun mănuşi atunci când mă apropii de ele...”

Purgatory

I have this amazing pain down my chest
Like the whole body is just crying for debt.
My head is spinning, like a circus on Ecstasy
And my tunnel vision is caught up with poetry.
My singing death is for my deaf ear
What the Christmas is for your dear.
Just a holy upcoming of the sacred,
Just a sucked up breathe waiting to devour

To destroy, to smile…
and then it faltered.
Feels like the war is forming on my throat
Running blood from the continuous choke.
Just a body flooding the existence of the soul,
The only one pure and vast foe.
It’s all grabbed in this inventory …
In a human package. Just living in a digital purgatory.

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