Exposed and open.
I can not expect to be rescued soon.
I wont pretend my pain will end
Many scars and shattered wounds held.
Sunlit nights and darkened days...
Find my hands bloodied
Attempting to protect buckeling knees
Descending.
As I come to rest,
Upon a bed of gravel!
Too wasted to pretend logic!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem