i want to bleed

A child killed by a bomb, a woman torn or a man savaged.

I shed tears, I wonder if that is part of a ritual to forget and move on.

Is that a lavish fancy to make my ego bigger as a kind compassionate heart?

Then how come am not tormented and broken every moment I live,

Then why cannot I thank myself for one more bomb missing my limbs,

And why not be happy with whatever that is, and keep seeking more?

The worst thing about my brain is I think, and my heart is I bleed,

My brain is bloated with blood making me vague and cryptic.

May be all is my fancy, and my selfish way of coping with this world around.

But I still want to bleed, feel every time a wish in that far corner dies.