My dear,
I am imprisoned in loneliness,
and trying to figure out
how they confined me to it.
They even injected loneliness
into my blood vessels
so that I can never escape from it.
Pulling myself into pieces
to get rid of loneliness
would mean my death.
But they don't know that
I can be more creative
than they thought
to break free.
Loneliness and death, again, appear.
U see, they're in my vocabulary.
But I am writing to U
My heart presses against any tragedy.
Writing for U
I can't get confused.
My heart presses against any tragedy.
I can be more creative
than they thought
to break free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that's really powerful. i think it takes a lot to start off a poem the way you did and end that way. it's pretty much amazing.