To the left of your head
tuck away your grief,
To the right of your head
drill a burr hole and let it bleed.
Why should you allow yourself to feel?
Your flesh and bones are simple reels of cells
filled with dead debris -
Instead, dream big to be of stone and steel!
Why should you be in a foul mood,
when you can walk asleep
inside the space between your ears?
Vain, numb, sad, mad and all that unwanted shebang
requires that you build a large dam -
For you'd be damned, if those monsters burst out
onto the robots watching you on the streets,
or from under your sheets.
Hide and throw the access key to your heart and being,
for someone may enter the bloody vessel
and break your even keel.
Fight to earn your keep
and don't dare to speak, or to be real!
Being vulnerable is for the meek
who stay within arm's reach,
and contract from each other emotional disease.
Hold down your fort because someone may see
the sweet child within,
who's dying to break free out of some
self-imposed bullshit quarantine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem