Say to self walk cautious be gracious
Yet falling all over yourself a little like wreckage
Think you feel better because you did what you know
The regret taste comparable to bile I have wretched
After many other past mistakes
Tell yourself I am aware
I am far past the stitch
Yet I yank it
The smell is as pungent as urine
I have wasted.
It is vulgar but no more so than most people
Only sits heavier and thicker because of lost appeal.
No more they are too many for me.
I only feel hot and tight after.
The ache in my mind for pulling it out more.
I had the nitch got careless.
Don't want to go back I like my silk lined burrow to stay dark and deep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem