I want to float in a river of red, the relaxing drip drop sound turns away the dread. the first clear then eventual fade into red lets me know I'm in control of this…yes.
so
Cut…slit….slice….on the roll of a dice. The blade in my hand cuts the skin nice. Back and forth pain and red river flow, when can I stop..I do not know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem