No.
I won't
tell you.
I will stand
frozen
with this pain
and grip my truth
that you love
vocalized
until I can't breathe
or bleed.
That truth
that the rest
seem so desperate
to hand you.
This is mine.
I will flail
and wretch
and vomit
and bleed
and cry
but I will never say those words
and you will never know why
not,
for sure.
You will assume
and you will be right,
but you deserve
to not hear it
for once.
I will dedicate
every poem
every book
every word
to you
with invisible ink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem