Those little parallel lines
Short and perfectly centered
DEEP
Proves that I am worthless
And very weak
HOPELESS
But the blood
On the blade of this knife
DARK RED
Proves that
I am good at something
NOT MUCH
This kind of high
This numbness
DEAD
The kind you
Cannot find in a drug
ANYWHERE
Has led me to
Freedom at last
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem