i walk in the door and i'm smothered, by people and powder and smoke
not one of them knows of my story, yet all of them wanting my help
take a deep breath full of toxins, exhale the tar tainted air
all of them screaming and bitching at me, do they even notice i'm here?
doing my best for all of them, so torn between friends and love
what choice do i have, i make them all mad, i know i'll end up alone
Sometimes i feel like i'm screaming, although i make scarcely a sound
anger pent up threatens escape, but i swallow the razors back down
slammed doors and slit wrists make no effect, forgetting does not mean release
all i want i can't have, all i have i don't want, what happened to living in ease?
the graves will gives of us shelter for sure, but i learned to walk cause my very closest friend was light, and i am not afraid to change my name to the color of darkness; This prison of my skin i could dig all day and not get out!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It walked out the door, as the breeze cleared the air, and as the smoke thinned out, the mirror could only show ease and transparency that calls out your name fade as fear..iip//as the razors, slide out of the cuts that they made..and disappeared..