I wanted pain not only to take away something from me,

in hours that would be too much write down that number,

in the amount of the rest important to the body that is visible

on the face.

I wanted upon to prove that I could assign

to the pain a poetic image and a metaphor,

but not to romanticize it.

There is nothing nice for me in that.

I wanted to represent it as real as I can

in its uncompromisingness

in the manner in which it affects the body

and how the body reacts to it.

This is my type of neuro rebelling,

because I know where is the center

and where it should intercept and obstruct

the signal that lurks.

Poetry is the best strategy against pain

because both phenomenons clash

in the meeting point

but in the different parts of the brain.

The same year both things appeared in my life.

I knew that the pain would come, but I didn’t know

that I would discover my future strength in writing.

My maturation actually began with poetry.