I won’t let anyone put me in prison.
Breathing is my only vocation,
your body does not inspire my forgiveness
if love is not accompanied by reason.
You don’t love me, you want me in a cell.
To want it to be yours is not love,
is a form of possession. A necessity.
A need of the unconscious, because
the conscious knows that death lurks,
and when I finally give up my borrowed body,
and become again the dust from which it came,
nothing will matter anymore.
I don’t care if you looked at that blue-eyed German blonde,
or the times you fucked your ex,
or the verses you thought of writing to someone who wasn’t me,
or the kiss you might have snuck up on, or maybe not.
I will never know. I will never know if any of it existed.
I only know that you are by my side and that I love you.
I will leave the worrying to the idiots, the crying ones,
and those who choose to live in constant battle.
I am my peace, and I share it with you,
with those kisses that taste like history, history.
of which I will always be a part.
So if you say you love me, don’t drive me away.
Love me truly, for to possess another is not to love,
it’s just to despise yourself.
Yes, you despise yourself, because you are wonderful
even without having anything in your name,
and that’s why, every time you want to control me.
and chasing, you despise yourself.
You despise what makes you unique
and happy without needing my company.
And I love you,
so please don’t despise yourself.
Love yourself free.