It's four and a half words on the back of a hand,
chewed down nails to the core and a hangover.
There's no sleep behind these eyes,
there's no beauty to this face cause I only look pretty in my shadow.
And i don't wanna trip on the curtain call,
looking like a fool with short extensions,
only long for a hug or a handhold
but that feels too silly to do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem