Still, are you here?
Still, it is I.
Still, you have found me.
Shrouded with the weight of your presence,
Shifting through what scars memory has captured,
Shredding through ties that have kept me intact.
Shrapnel splits veins, leaving venom to spread.
Still, you are no comfort,
Still, you hover like a thick mist,
Still, I am deafened by your whispered silence.
Still, I need you to go, but
Still, I want you to stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.