The dreams get worse
Changing the way I think
Day turns to night
Love turns to hate
Scars turn to cuts
The burning hate grows stronger.
Nights I tremble
Shaking in fear
I have so much power
But feel so weak.
Visions of murder
Every turn I make
I grab a knife and wonder
The beautiful site of blood
Dripping down another
From the sharp blade I hold.
Hoping to stay sane
But I drift most days
Scared of hurting others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem