What do you smell when you think of childhood?
Most would say baking
or running in a field of flowers
I can't stop thinking of the smell of alcohol
So many different types my throat cannot decipher which is which
I no longer feel the burn in my nose or going down my throat
Not even thinking of the medications I take everyday that might harm me
Mental stability drastically falling
Children having the time of their life
yet the mental illnesses chase me through the field
I wipe the grin off my face and I stand up
I fall and I fall
Thinking, can I ever get up again? Will this childhood chase me for the rest of my life?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem