I can taste the metal
lose my desire for red meat
relax, every muscle
relax
emotion
relax
the time of day
I can give you
the time of day
What I talk about is how
love eludes me
No what I talk about is
what's wrong with me
No what I talk about is
what will happen to me
Fear
is the secret.
Always fear.
What you get from me is
the edge of a trace of shadows
and that's all you'll get
I can't give anymore
I don't want to
Everything hurts
This hurtle into living space
and that swift slide out of it.
You want secrets
I say every reckless act
results from a moment of fear.
While compassion is the simple recognition
That what is done cannot be undone,
may not be forgiven.
And a recognition that the murderer and the martyr
the adulterer and the healer can at any moment
change positions, become the other.
It simply depends on how much pain
You need to kill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like the way you have expressed this pain without giving too much away. Gets the mind thinking.