You know me better than the truth
My scars are left peeling on the bathroom rug
And every time you wake up
you let them in with open arms.
Every time I wake up sweating
the morning chorus keeps me going
You're winter spring summer fall
all I've ever been
and I keep following the clues
sewed into your fingertips
I try not to speak in superlatives
but this is the worst heaven I've ever had
this is the best apocalypse I could have imagined
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Worst heaven! ! Scars of life! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.