At times, I wink
And shake sleep
Off my somnolent eyes
And it goes away
As I give myself
A glass of liquor.
But still
A part of me fractures,
Breaks, fragments,
Shatters - any kind of
Destruction
As I shove this thought
That I’ll lose everybody,
Anybody.
Somebody.
In this process.
And this peril
Scares me more
Than death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem