Sometimes I own you in my
heart; my inner speaks to me
and tells me this is definitely yours.
Yet sometimes I want to push you away
for your own safety
to not fall in my traps of hurts.
My sorries won’t make up for
all the hurts,
and you know that.
Sometimes I own you in my
heart; my inner speaks to me
and I just don’t understand it.
You may even think pride holds me up,
but it’s actually that I feel terrible,
yet saying it would tire you
of forgiveness.
Sometimes I own you in my
heart; my inner shouts at me
that I should leave things, and just
let you be; than kill you because of me
of which you don’t deserve.
Your happiness is my absence,
And though my heart shouts at me
I can’t.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not sure of love, doubtful.