leftover of one blue imprint.

Thank you for all the pins,
needles,
razors and knives
I collected with my always recovering
bleeding skin
as I was trying to get back on my feet
from the floor
in the room you left me all exploded like a star
on the sky that never moves the clouds.
In my ear I still hear the drum
you have awaken with your feet
the beat that made my skin crack.
No,wait,it was not my skin,
it was the cocoon in which I waited
for someone to unzip and let out the
blue butterfly.
Thank you for allowing me
to be what I am,
and how it sweetly made you laugh...
Thank you for the mask I break every time
at full Moon.
Thank you for the earth quakes
and the explosions on the seventh cloud
from here.
Thank you for the dancing that
made me fall on the floor full of
shards of glass.
Thank you for all the wounds
all the cuts and the voids
and the names you wrote on my back
as I willingly continue to believe in your highness,
my Gods.