When I see cuts on their wrists,
I know that we could be tight
Otherwise-
I'm hard to know, full of fight
And I doubt I wanna know You,
Stop pulling on my dress!
If I'm breathing, then
I'm always down to confess
Blooming underwater-
wise enough to drown daily
Surface once a year to prove
I got the guts to hang on, barely
I can't fix you
That's something I must address
The blame game-
don't come at me with that mess
I said
Stop pulling on my dress!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem