Carência

So, you say it is “needing”,
never wanted to call it so,
it’s like assuming my weakness.
A woman like me would die
before assuming any kind of needy,
never such weakness.
For so long painted a self-portrait
of a wild horse ridding woman
but…so simple, so quick, so short
in a moment the horse is as hard as a cloud
as wild as a worm and so like nothing.
In this instant “needing” rides over me
and I’m no cloud, no worm, nothing
underneath the horse-power of need.
Yes, it is “needing”, it has always been “needing”,
wanted to disguise it of anything else
like strength, knowledge, whatever it was,
it was fake, a mask, a hide away,
never knowing that the beast
is right inside me.
Yes, you’re right and I don’t want you to be right.
I want the reality,
not a fantasy of wild horses to ride
or this silly being ridding clouds.
I don´t want,
I’m so sorry you’re right,
I’m so sorry you hurted me,
I’m so sorry you escaped from my heart
Like a horse trough out a dream
and I was left holding on to a cloud
that can never be ridden.
I’m so sorry the horse run away
from my awaken-dream
and turned all it’s power into “need".