Below the Flesh

Below the skin: Flesh.

Below the flesh: What I am.
But what am I? 

Bones, muscles, blood, vessels;

Veins, joints, chemicals, cells.
Unspoken words and thoughts,
Dreams and hopes.

Four micrograms of dreams,

Still and overdose, it seems.
Gotta keep on dreaming, by any means,
For in my dreams, just for you, my love beams.

And that is what I am too:

Dreams of love, about me and you.
Sometimes they make me blue.
Blues is what I am, that’s true.

Fear crawling in my depths,

Triggering the sorrow… should I pay my debts?
My ancient fathers gave me a new tomorrow.
My identity conformed, too, by my regrets.

And don’t mess with my hopes,

Can’t you see they’ve torn off their ropes?
Still, in my hopes, my faith it chokes.
Revolting guts: what it provokes.

Impatiently patient, I come from the ancients.

Like them too, as the smoke of the incense,
The day will come when my breathing ceases;
When I, as a “whole”, will be gone and I’m left just to pieces,
I will stop being a physical presence.
…And I will fade away, what remains will be my essence.