My ailment deepens to roots,
Slackened by the uproar of distress
I sheltered a fat bubbly balloon of thoughts.
Then I busted out and shed flowers
Red, red flowers
Pain eats me with its jaws so hard
Sky with its grin shined
At loss I churned out the scum of myself,
Mind's best pricks
Shrill aches in each throb
Hurts, everything
Your dust I trample in every thought
Your smell I sweep
This room shrinks so quickly
Breaks me
Like a black hole
I must go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful depiction of distress well articulated and nicely penned with conviction. Thanks for sharing Titus.