Thoughts of him
Push me in a corner
built for my own mendacity
I try to overlook
My rusted feelings
But do I really?
Can I look at your pastel face
Straight into your severed eyes
While your black rose buds
jerk at me
As I covertly
Lie
my way out of the room?
I know what I articulate
I also know
What’s true
Certainly, I don’t actually
Try
Leaving my
amorous memories
Certainly, It roasts my insides
Certainly, It accentuates my Achilles' heel
But certainly
Without it, I am only but a hollow tree
Uprooted in nothing
But the hell hole
That awaits me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem