FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

When they see me
Bleed
And I let it be
When they see me suffer
That much
And I complain to no one
To nothing

They perhaps will soon
Understand
Why I keep this pen
And paper
Why I wasted my hours
Scribbling
I do not wish to be
Understood
I complain to no one
I repeat
They see me bleeding
And I keep on saying
Nothing,
“it is nothing”