I can't see,
And I can barley breathe,
Your sufficating me.
I can feel your breath,
On my intoxicated skin.
You send me,
Roses and sweets,
And think everythings better,
Though my scars say otherwise.
You buy me,
Tulips and sugars,
And say you fixed things,
When you simplely swept them under the rug.
You give me,
Chocolates and flowers,
And expect things from me,
To forgive and forget.
But I can't do that.
The sweetest chocolates,
And the prettiest roses,
Won't work this time.
My scars are forever,
But flowers die eventually.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem