Cherishing the outside
never revering;
No loss.
Until the inside
cuts your guts,
dizzying your stuff
(your stuffing, I mean) -
your pathetic excuse of an inner,
of a self.
Screw your logic
screw your idiosyncracies
screw the mazes that you walk
screw your choice
of walking the red line of the
un-labyrinthed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem