Three cups of coffee but I'm not ready to die
Three cups of coffee yet I'm still not crying
True, my eyes are salty
a fact I can't deny
As blistering cold to a fever
emotions strain through me
it's getting hotter and harder
Don't let me forget to breathe
Nervous as I am hyper
Two parralel terms to explain
The picture within the picture
Where the only constance is change
Nauseating and dizzying
Straddling me with pain
I resist your words
of fear I might feel more
than the aching of a clichéd metaphor
what more to say?
Tomorrow might be alright
sordid thoughts of today
become teenage woes of tomorrow
wounds to scars to sutures
past to present to future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem