Unconsciously, I put a knife through my paintings

Because the childhood you gave me

Made me store a child inside me

My womb houses myself

You, my parents, who know so well to kill children

Gave nothing but pain

Unconsciously, I store few colored brushes in my unartistic hand

As the water trickles down

Down to my throat as I raise my hands in the air

Singing “Hosanna in the highest , Lord we lift up your name with hearts filled with grace

Be exalted oh Lord our God”

My dearest God, why was there no love for me

When I was just a new born?

The promises you had given me

To reserve a heart for me

Where is my Adam?

Did you take my rib and form him

Or did you forget?

You gave my parents each other

And look what they did

Unconsciously, I tried so hard…