I am worse today,
my chest is stuck with pins,
my throat filled with acid,
my mind congested.
I feel as though a phantom insect or spider,
has gnawed so gently and for so long,
at me,
that I have only just noticed as the last piece of me is gone.
I must leave soon,
wander from room to room,
participate,
listen attentively,
all the time,
contemplating where to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem