Chains,
my blame,
knives,
my guilt,
all the bodies under the quilt.
severed body parts,
and all the insides during that time ripped out.
shout for help,
nobody will hear you,
cry,
nobody will care.
I walk out of the shadows,
wanting my part of the pain,
to heal my guilt and shame.
I am the one who put the bodies under the quilt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem