nowadays i spend my time
with a sort of ringing
in my brain.
sometimes it sings to me
imitating a prayer or a friend;
sometimes it can sound alot like my exes,
or an unforgiving crowd.
do you remember when we
were little and mom would
promise you candy
after a flu shot?
on any given day the ringing
can be the candy or the flu shot;
without it my life is
either boring or reckless.
today i sat on the toilet,
losing,
and watched a small cockroach
find a home in the pale, cracked walls.
i was jealous of him,
freely creating a space for himself
in a stark silence.
knowing how to exist in a cruel
world that only has walls
is a gift for those
who are baited by planes,
pain and ringing bells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem