i see your picture
and i remember you
black lipped woman
curly hair and wide
open eyes with tears
about to fall but
i shy away, i could have
been someone else
into the hills i could
have died,
but i have chosen to be
myself among the many
where you think i am
a loser
having lost everything
original about me while
you stay there
as yourself toxic as
usual and cursing and
too honest, i have no regrets
as one among the many
unrecognizable now, because
there are so many of us
and you cannot point at
me anymore,
i am alive. And you are dead.
that is the difference.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem