and now i ask the ghosts
and other sinister creatures
that haunt me to the bone
what do i even know
about pain, about suffering
about living in general
everything seems so small
to be taken seriously
unlike this bitter aftertaste
that fills my mouth
as the minutes rearrange,
i cannot breathe nor function
i am a snail in the grass
looking for meaning
slowly
slowly
slowly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem