crying for answers
to unsolved questions
about you
curious as hell
as to why, when I go home
I think of you at night
control is the worst
word in the English language
and I hate it so much
for fear of loving
you over myself,
I am controlled
for fear of coming back
to what I knew...
can't go back there
I can't let myself
be broken again
be controlled again
not by love
only myself
only me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem