The bones in my face press insistently outwards
Piercing through skin they expand like a cage
Forward and beyond they grow
Enclosing my aura in a projected bony facade
Like an ill fitting garment uncomfortable and too tight
My hands press against my face to bring the bones back
But pressure builds, pushing, pushing
Pain flickers darting backwards and forwards
From inside my head the bones seem to have a life of their own
Taking me out of this dimension.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem