Cento for Bambi, My Own (Poem 21)

You hate me a little
Even if you love me
You did not want me home.

I rented a dark shit-apartment
[“The good thing about hell
We don’t need a lighter for our cigarettes.”]

You knew how to travel between worlds
Do you know how to travel backwards?
Will it be for forgiveness?
I told you not to worry
I saw you leaving in the train of my dreams
I carry your betrayal on my chest
Like a red rose.

Now that you’re dead
I’m the queen
I stand tall as you did
Only, I walk slower
I am much taller
Leaves fall from trees when I pass
To lay my path
The wind blows before me
Not behind
Maybe it’s you, blazing my way.

He only wanted to talk
About the forest
About you.

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