I thought I could hide it.
Bury it, drown it,
something, damn it!
It comes in the morning,
my soul to keep,
becoming sickening,
ending in sleep.
How can I communicate this?
I'm always battered,
I'm mostly broken,
pieces of me, scattered.
And then the gnawing,
sense of doom closing,
where is the other shoe,
waiting, fading.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem