You remind me of a time when I knew who I was.
but like always
the second hand on the clock catches us
it always does
and as the pendulum swings back and forth
I know this won’t work anymore
we’ll never learn
but the mistakes will shape us
like the clay we are
with hearts so fragile
that we break it ourselves
when we have to let go
we’re always broken
so say what it is
and verbalize the harsh reality
that we deny
our roads separate
and we can’t live at the fork
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem