i had long known that i cannot be full
i am always a glass half full.
This feeling of not having gone at length
to the place where i want to put all my legs and my hands
and let them do something that is so complete.
My cheeks are blushing.
My ears do not fully hear what I am saying to my heart.
My heart beats but always in half notes
In Whispers so that You may not hear everything
That I want to say. Always concealing.
Hiding the true color of this state: halfway
Half asleep. Half awake.
At the middle of things, I shall always be.
I am neither the beginning
Nor the End. I want to speak, but there are no words coming.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem