R. I. P

Куцая Зайчиха
a cup of tea, a TV-set.
no one beside me on the bed
if damn dim sunset looks upset
it doesn't mean you should regret
to live your life.
ignore that i've
become too tired
to see the light
like it's not black
i'd kowtow back
to ethnic cheekbones of my idol
with pleasure
damn. no reading Bible
erasuare. feelings.. i could hide all
in speech to God - not formal prayer
my mother says her man is slayer
her bullshit's cause to be betrayal
role model's face. i draw portrayal.
my idol, would you condescend
to proudly hold my trembling hand?
but if you think time heals
unclasp
drugstore, the ashes, peals
her gasp
i used to cross myself 3 times
to save the things i anxious bout
now all i've got are foreign rhymes
new actions will not put a spot
and as you'll hold my hand i'll tell you what i'm planing
as wind'll be fanning soul of granny
i'll got my heart for both of us
it's healthy. isn't it a plus?
my breath's as full of smoke as hers
i'm losin' way. can't choose a course
i loved but couldn't tell, i swear i
could cover it in words "te quiero"
or maybe something like "te amo"
it's not as cheap as melodrama
it's cheap to weap at revelation
she wouldn't know those words' translation.
i wish it wouldn't happen really
no idols. now it seems so silly.
from you i need an atmosphere
of something magic near, dear
don't disappear cause of fear
as granny did because of weakness
no my hysterics just my meekness
i wanna be afraid to breahe
her gasp. i'm falling underneath