This hole in my heart
Crying again.
Running to hide from it,
before I collapse.
Opening, then closing around me.
How like they, I am,
and how likely again, I will be.
Some thing is wrong,
I call all around and like the
Small embers of sleeping
giants the would be children.
Memories thus of old wombs,
Pulling at my flesh and the
mighty worm talks too her to.
Do not convince me yet still.
Against,
Each new broken promise.
Deep lines along my face,
traced backwards attest.
Why my eyes are again dull, yet
I trust you,
to keep on living,
Because I love to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem