Stop, don’t tell me
About the shining gemstone in the sky
We call it a moon, but it’s somewhat beautiful
And when it sinks
Yellow splodges onto
A blue background (wake up, the page is burning) …
I look at my disintegrating hands, mirrors flash my reflection
A burning soul, a blinding death
It’s killing me, but I don’t care
(I think I want to stay)
So just forget the hopes you
Dreamed of me, colour me red
I always had a pale heart, like a white stone
Hard and strong, but inside a soft cover
It hid away my eyes
But now I see clearly
I’m bright and bloodstained
My portrait smudged onto the staled walls of my burnt house
Like roses crushed to death
(I always use to squeeze the life from them)
Red, it’s always going to be
So colour me red (see me blend away)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem