Bonheur Amputé
Amesoeurs
Amputated Happiness
I curse the sick, the obscene blood
Saturated with affliction
Which spreads into my body
And flays my veins
A thick poison in which
A thousand parasitic insects get tangled
To leave behind shapeless eggs
Oozing sadness and disgust
I don't know myself anymore
The happy thoughts
Were atrophied, smothered
Inside their bony prison
A bright gaze clouded
By the gray filter of indifference
An empty look
