How Things Look

You call me Hell

Cause you know

It’s all made of true what you see

Bricks of hate, bonded by rests of colourful meat

Watching through those frames

You call windows

Cause you think

You can open and close them by your will

When wake, when asleep, when tired and even when you miss

There’s hell all over the landscape you’ve eaten

To give place to whatever comes when you just don’t care

You cant’ call me Heaven

Or anything else

Cause all you see is what you, by not wanting, let just be

You are never hungry

(that’s why you can’t see animals and seeds)

You just bite, no kiss

You are never thirsty

(that’s why you can’t see waterfalls and trees)

You just drink, not sip

You are never fatigued

(that’s why you can’t lay down your bones and weep)

You just wait, not feels

You are never happy

(that’s why you can’t open wide your meanings)

You just celebrate, no cheers

You are never sad

(that’s why you can’t fake your lack of means)

You just sit down, no losing of creed

You see what you see

Not what you want, never what you ask

Even less what you despise, or what brings you relief

Everyone can see what you see

But no one can see though your eyes, so blind but not sick

Just blindness, no darkness at all, the rainbow to you means

You have the unseeing eye that looks at everything

And mix all the colours in a dark tone of rotten meat