Oh, lover of my youth,
loving you was near to death experience…
Your body was the deathbed
where I’d lie to feel alive,
while I was slowly decaying…
Oh, lover of my youth,
we taste our Karma in each other’s mouth…
Will we erase it if we kiss more?
You mistook me for your fate
and then you run away…
Oh, lover of my youth,
we’re all born as tragedies
that haven’t been written yet…
And you’re the tragedy
I was destined to fall in love with and write about…
Oh, lover of my youth,
my desire for you
is as dark
as the hidden side
of the moon…
Oh, lover of my youth,
there’s a lost Atlantis in your throat
built with the hidden poems my sucked breaths left there
and now you choke with the ruins
of my soul’s ancient civilization…
Oh, lover of my youth,
nothing belongs to me
except for my poetry and my death
and you’re intertwined with both of them…
Thus, how can you not be mine?
Oh, lover of my youth,
you’re the escape room
in my mind,
the abusive home
I continue living in…
Oh, lover of my youth,
I use the hands of other men
as placebo…
As a fake remedy
to forget yours…
Oh, lover of my youth,
let me give myself
to you,
before I give myself
to God…
Oh, lover of my youth,
I’m thinking about you
as often as
I’m thinking about death…
All the time.
-Elena Karra