THAT RUMANIAN FRIEND / THAT RUMANIAN
this assumption about me has hurt me.
to assume things about me, believe them and spread them like i am a stranger? hurts.
there i crawl back into my dark place -
if i begged and if i yelled, would it change the sky tonight?
a cloud hangs over my head.
i always give - and give.
give - and give to a world
not willing to give of itself but take!
snatch!
a cloud hangs over my head, and rains
on my face.
who is there to listen to me without judgment
when i am done listening to everyone else with all my heart?
where is my sneha to talk to?
it does not rain but pour,
and my tears remain permanently inked on my face -
like the face of a cheetah.
I scream into pillows and the sky seems to fall a little lower. But, my dood, the honest cheetah always has its pride: within and in its plural - of the many cheetahs who surround. It is not only a pride of lions, yeah?
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