This was the ripest
My fruit could get
Now I'm hungry and I'm strung out
I could never fake it
Afraid I'm old and burnt out
Afraid I'll never make it
I'm falling again
I hope there's a reason below
Not quite sure that there is
Not quite sure if I'll ever know
This bottomless pit
These walls
With their ever so watchful eyes
Judging me
Tearing out my insides
She a fashion princess
He's a lonesome beast
My they carve together
This insinuating piece
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem