I lay on these bright mats... the puzzle piece foundations of my realty, and I stare at the ceiling. The white shifts to black as I slip into a state of conscious yet unconscious slef loathing, and I think.... about you.... about life.... about why my feelings torment me and break me down beyond my simplest point...... WHY? ! ? ! WHY do my emotions treat me LIKE A PLAY THING! ? ! ? ! ? I'm trapped in this state, and I thank you. As an all mighty God of rage laughs at me, I thank you..... I thank myself..... I thank you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem