She found heaven in bitter chocolate, for it reminded her even in life, the horror of things provide substance.
She had an affinity with animals, for creatures were the only being who understood her wild soul that was tamed by the world.
She dreams only in nightmares, for in her waking life she must put on the hero facade and act as if the dreams don’t snare her reality.
She drove herself crazy when alone, for her inner mind took on the voices of those against her.
She lived in a fantasy world, to escape the world which robbed her of fantasy.
She preferred the night, for there were no walls in the dark for liars to hide their backs.
– Based upon the poem Hora Tras Hora, Día Tras Día by Rosalía de Castro. Gracias to two years of Spanish I actually partially know what the poem means; but the NPWM prompt said to listen to how the words are said and the rhythm, and “translate” in your own way.
Hour after hour, day after day,
I’m eternally swallowed,
By tormenting waves that wish,
Oh they wish,
To quench my flame.
However, they cannot be rid of thorns,
Thorns left on the flowers of my crown,
People speak such whispers,
Saying thorns should never be grown.
Don’t blame the flower, for never being worn.
But sometimes the thorns prick me,
I’m left with tattered skin and tears of crimson.
Agh! Why must it always be,
The prettiest things take my heart away from me?