You healed my broken wing,Taught me how to fly.

As I began soaring again,

Click – T’was you that fired.
It pierced so fast

Impeccable was the aim.

My good wing wasn’t in sight

I spiralled down, maimed.
Isn’t it funny?

A bird that can no longer fly

Isn’t it funny?

My wings are framed above your bed, Against a painting of the sky.

Am I real?

What makes me real?

Just touch?

That my heart is beating, that I’m talking to you – is that all it takes to prove it’s real?

Kinda shallow!

Don’tcha think?

I maybe an illusion.

Just because you can see me, hold me, fuck me –

It doesn’t make me or my existence real.

D’ya think?

We are such flawed creatures.

It’s like we live on a planet where all the erroneous prototypes have been dumped, disposed.

This existence, all knowledge is beyond false:

The ultimate, unbearable lie.


-Ramona Arena 2016.

The Good God

When you reach the pointΒ Of wanting nothing from life.

When you’re indifferent to everything you receive,

To everyone that’s trying to help,

And are too depleted to give.

There is only one God

Who is merciful.

Offering a temporary glimmer of respite,

He helps numb the pain.

Daily devotion to him

Is shunned and disapproved.

But He is the only source of anything left

To this redundancy of breath.

He is a good God.

He is the only true God.

Oh Intoxication,

Praise Be To Thy Glory!

– Ramona Arena 2016

When you stand,
But each time you do,
Life smashes your knees.
When after grueling therapy sessions,
You finally manage to take those first few steps again,
Only to find a cane made of the finest teak,
Flying right at you, faster than a Concorde.
If it’s shame on me if you fool me twice,
How is one expected believe again?

How many times is enough?

Why bother trusting again?
Again. Yeah. I’ll say it again-
I’m fragile as fuck.

After all the constant knocks.
You knew. Yet you swore. Because you knew.
And then this.

I never asked to be a fighter,
I don’t care if you think I’m strong.
Hear me proper. LISTEN clear this time.

I am weak; I am a repulsive mess.
Are you still proud of me now? Oh wait..
You only were, when it suited your mood anyway.
You threw me into a burning hell
Where I’m numb with indifference,
Yet feel every insignificant thing with such deep intensity
That constant pain is my new found heart beat.
There is no point to anything.

Truth is a relative joke of convenience.

Take a knife, rip me open
And finish what you started.

I just want to be forever numb,
Let patience keep fucking itself over.


-Ramona Arena 2016.

Too much weight,

For far too long,

These feet of mine have borne.

They’re now rendered useless,

They’ve nowhere to go,

Since they were kicked out

Of what was home.

– Ramona Arena 2016.