Dream lived suicides, swarm through the youth like rain, slipping through cracks and corners, leaking into everything safe.
She’d doubt kiss and hug and touch, to feel without sorrow, a burden weighing on her tongue - lies waiting to flee, her fingers slide to the back of her throat, as she watches them pool at her feet, honesty never felt so good.
Walking lifeless, meaninglessly, to wander and ponder on life and limb, over striking thoughts of torment, to lose to dreams of suicide, and blood - pooling around her, a ruby red stream of glimmering lies and pain.
Loosley loving and feeling, to close and conquer fear through denial, leaving all but the lies, tied to her pocket effortlessly. Those secrets are going to dropp to the ground, to be found and read, all else layed to the floor to be nakedly exposed.
They’re going to know - they see you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem