Desnuda Madrugada

The window opened, the candle went out
Inside, only the eternal fire of the hours burns me
Loneliness, the lady who accompanies me best
I don't ask her for love, and she doesn't ask me anything
And so my life begins in the early hours
I make love to words
It's in silence when the muses speak to me
Or in the midst of the damn chaos of this insipid life
Don't be afraid, my lives, to show yourselves
If you want, I'll give you my hand to express yourselves
Let's do something deeper than art
Ink comes out of my veins, smoke comes out of my phrases

Sometimes this seems like poetry to me
And other times curses to calm my agony
It's necessary on the map of my life
To locate the thorns and open the wounds
This is an act of complete nudity
This blank page demands lies at its feet
Spirits in pain whisper truths in my ears
As a spokesperson, I also add my wickedness

I let them speak like Judas to Satan
And transcribe them in a beat like this track in a snap
Darkness is the queen of the night and there's no reproach
When the sun rises, I'm absorbed in bliss
I weave time in my belly
There's no secrecy in my throat, I keep spitting out verses
I don't write to impress you, much less to overshadow you
If my word doesn't rage, I intoxicate myself instantly

Poetry is an inherited wound
Agreed upon at birth, a lightning bolt that splits my soul
Bleeding with putrid words
Letting transparent metaphors and painful syllables flow
I decode the universe, it's made of alphabets
I update suffering in the language of these times
It's better to hate, hating in verse

I carry voices of other voices in my voice
Voices of indigenous women raped by German or Spanish
Of witches burned at the stake of the inquisition
Voices of nuns condemned to exile for being literate
Of outlawed poets in suits and pants
Voices of women beaten by macho abusers
Of heads cut off for fighting for their rights
Warrior whores amazons Mary Magdalenes, no stop

I'm not a poet
I just scream on a sheet of paper
When tears stay in my throat
Or when, for example
I prefer to curse you in writing

I'm not a poet
I'm not
I just, sometimes, get indigestion from so much shit
And I have to vomit it out
Publicly in the name of my mental health