When it rains

I don't really like
It when it rains, it feels
as if the dead were crying
from above.

they say that I've sold
my soul to the devil,
that I'm heartless and
intrusive.

they also say that
I like women, that I have
five boyfriends, that
my eyes turn green at night.

that I have too much luck,
and walk with too much pride.

they also consider me hidden,
that I'm way too arrogant,
that I don't love anything.

that fear has never entered
my skull, that my fingers
are irons, and that my poetry
is a lie.

that I can't, that I pick
animals over people, that I starve myself,
that I'm a genius,
but I know nothing about life.

that my footsteps smell
like fire, that I'm going to die
young, that God will punish me
and everyone will laugh.

that I think I'm perfect
that I don't measure my words
that my soul is violent and
my mind is radiant.

..but I don't care,
so it hurts them instead.