A storm has hit my room.
With showers trenching my pillow and arm.
Thunder is moaned and sobbed into the air.
I’m breaking down in this hurricane.
I just don’t know what to do but
Let the clouds in my head poor out.
This storm is forecasting for weeks.
Until I drown myself in the rain or
My head splits from the thunder,
The only thing that can relieve me is something
Now out of reach.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem