A NOBEL WOMEN'S MADNESS (Um Nobel as mulheres loucas)

(Dedicated to the songs of Bob Dylan and Amy Winehouse)

Mad women are insane, destructive, tools with the life of anyone.

But when it will leave an unforgettable trail of happiness, impossible to erase.

With its many facets, they are schizoid incomprehensible that mark forever our life.

Smile smiles sprouting from his cheeks as the words that drench her sensuality voice, behaving like irresponsible madcap, always with the soul and the light spirit.

Mad women are beautiful, face with snake eyes, hair framed by alcohol and tobacco perfume, and body full of insignificant details at first glance.

Crazy women are bitches, bandits, demons in bed offer in your body to feel a God.

Are angels of illusion, imagination nirvanas that populate our dreams as angels, nurturing our creative capacity.

In the silence make noise, the hubbub make silence any sound.

They take up space, if noting the distance. It seems that exude a light, a scent that announces.

Mad women feel angry in a special way. Break, scratch, take revenge of an unforgivable way that fades through the tear.

And then that you want to feel your feelings, your passion is overwhelming.

And when you think you could get rid of one, it returns, but when it goes, will once leaving in silence.

And no matter which sign belong, fish, aquarium, scorpion, crazy women are averse to time, permeating all the stars of the universe.

That my ode to female madness I must pay tribute to my private mental hospital, which enriched my story, but almost made me die of love.

Text by Bira De Oliveira