Inside that drawer
I see the things
That burn my pain
And I hide the shame
I still want more
Cause my head rings
And ashes grow higher
As I inhale fire
I’ve counted it all
The encounters had
Death still purses me
I haven’t paid yet
One day I will fall
It won't be that bad
So I continue to invite
Their smoke in my sight
And I store more
Thoughts so sad
In my drawer
Such a horrible fad
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem