poesia + draw = my head burn

for my english friends

The moon stares down with eyes of spite,

Her gaze condemns my every slight,
Alone she reigns, the sky’s cold queen,
High above, she judges what I’ve been.

My throat is wrecked by the scenes that replay,
My heart bruised deep from each drunken day.

The ivy climbs my legs in green,
Like a stone golem, I sink unseen,
I give my flower to the little child,
The ivy holds me, roots running wild.

Medusa meets my gaze, but no curse came,
She saw my heart, and carved her name.

Cursed Medusa, cursed gods in flight,
Cursed goddess, fade into the night,
My heart as pure as the winter’s snow,
Is my life worth all those glass bridges I know?