It started with coffee, a bed, a ginger biscuit
They said it might put things into perspective
Does water change a stone with a tiny drop?
No one seemed to care that I was shaking
Like Jericho’s walls before they tumbled down
I hugged my terrors like a nest of spiders
Skated on thin ice each night
Looked in the mirror, someone strange looked back
I escaped for a while into a sunflower picture
‘But this won’t do, ’ they said. ‘This will not do at all’
Like a porcupine’s back, I bristled
Little black shudders ran me through and through
Razor-clawed, mind tore and picked at memories
Till they bled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem