I’m on a hill
in a high gale.
A concrete box
my prison cell.
A raging storm
a screaming woman
all alone.

The wind’s a razor
I howl.
I have invented grief.
It’s mine
I own it.

Down you get
you interlopers!
You know nothing!
All of pain is mine!
All the pain in the world
is mine!
It belongs to me.

I rise up.
The wind buffets me
I soar away on grief.
The world looks very small.
Nothing to me!
I inhabit a region
of wind and ice
a hollowness.

You don’t know how I feel!
Leave me alone!
I don’t want your sympathy!
Fuck off!