shattered glass is pressed into my fingertips
and the blood on them is more than my own.
My nerves produce no signal anymore
so I can just let the blood flow.
I'd die for something I can feel
but I'm too weak to break the chains.
They keep me in the dark alone
begging for someone to dropp a key.
I could keep on walking till my lungs refuse to breathe
till I collapse and close my eyes forever.
Become food for the worms and a part of the earth,
Back to where I was created.
After all, ash to ash and dust to dust-
just waiting for the wind to blow me away,
So I have to change, Ive got to change
before I let myself die.
Take a breath to clear my chest,
But I can never clear my mind.
(really old poem-created many moons ago)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem