Life is something unusual,
Awkward, harmful, and painful,
Yet joyful, adoring, and giving,
But the darkness still looms in the shadows.
The things we know are questionable,
The things we don't know remain unknown,
Yet my life feels like a vacuum that
Has enveloped me in my sleep,
And I feel nothing has come over it.
Violence exists as it beats my flesh,
Death lurks in my shadow;
Life is questioned as I suffer daily,
And unconscious fondlings my brother
Has for women's fabric vanquishes
All possibility of harmony and happiness.
My father, having fantasies about his mother,
Was defiled by his own father,
And upon my mother lashed out
His emotions, his anger, his rage,
And abused everyone as if
They were animals meant to be slaughtered.
My sister, molested twice and
Almost violently raped,
Cries herself to sleep as she
No longer can deal with her pain.
My brother struggles with anger
As he cannot withhold his
Burning emotions within him.
And accusations of rape sift in the air
As memories of my father
Murder me in the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem