I skip my memories
like stones across the lake
build houses of them
that are good and solid
cement them in good
with shattered hopes
and broken promises of love.
my walls are good
high and tight
that's how I want them
it provides my warmth and security.
do not put your hopes in me
I don't love anymore
I don't cry
I don't risk love.
I spend my days
thinking of the worms that will
grow large and warm eating me
after I am dead
when my memories
will have their own burial
when I won't have to face the memories of her
your turned back and vitriolic rages
and the chances of love that I have thrown away
because I could no longer trust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem