Closing in around me are the pressures of the world,
Are they really there or am I just mad?
Is this reality? Is this a dream?
I'm worthless, nothing, just a sad "human being".
With dry lips, I gasp for air,
Waiting for the thoughts to leave.
"I hate you." I breathe in.
"Don't leave me, " I breathe out.
Why can one not control the mind?
Why can the mind not control the shell?
How can I become so rabid in a flash?
I snarl at the loved ones,
I play dangerously with trouble.
Abuse yourself,
Lose yourself,
Reconnect,
Break.
Abuse, you see, is nothing but a reality check.
"Let's get drunk" - just to feel something other than f***ed up.
Running the blade closer to the arteries, just to feel a rush.
Are you alive? Are you a product of a ****ed up experiment?
It's time to reconnect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The fuckedupness of life becoming a force of poetry