Hurt is royal purple
It smells like the water thats hitting your still emotionless shelterless body
It tastes like the the rim of your empty whiskey bottle
It sounds like the cars speeding by as you sit and cry on the side of the interstate
It feels like the cold wet hard gravel you have to sleep on
It looks like a wavy ocean filled with your tears
Hurt is when your stuck out in the cold and have no one to turn to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is the best work you've posted. Have you read Plath? Her work is sharp and dangerous. You should check it out. Besides she is like the most famous feminist/suicidal tendencies poet. If you read The Bell Jar you might be surprised at how much you relate to her feelings.