it's like the itch
you refuse to scratch
because it'll only
irritate your skin
without relieving a single thing
and you know
what kind of thoughts
i'm referring to
i'm sure you have just as many
as i do
mine have been collected
through drugs and self-pitying warrants
of unfamiliar subject matter
you can call
and call
and call
as many things
as unfair
as you want
but the earth didn't mold itself
into its current shape
for your judgement
and when things are okay
you dilute them down to beautiful
when it used to be the other way
you can ask
as nicely as you please
but i've never heard of
a hundred percent sincerity
put into an action asked
my last wish was for
self-acceptance
but i was still
too afraid to look into the mirror
i let out loud breaths
when his touch demanded them
if i could go back
to just one moment from last night,
it'd be when
he asked me from the front yard
if i heard him screaming
all i was doing
was trying to catch all of my thoughts
before they shook away
i sat on the roof,
thinking of i was as tall as
my state of mind
i'd be as invincible as i've dreamed
and all that itching
maybe could've been relieved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem