The circles that round out my eyes and heart
Become repetitive patterns,
Broken hearts are contagious.
Why do we find pleasure in infecting each other so?
And then, why do we befriend those who are infected?
Beneath the corridors of the wounded hearts,
The feelings collapse under the pressure,
The uncontrollable buzzing is deafening
To the ears of the tortured souls.
And the scars of the pain have not yet sunken in,
They are still still visible, and you can see right through me.
You read my mind and saw exactly what I felt,
But you still don't understand, and you never will.
So just go on assuming..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem