as usual
i am not doing what i am supposed to do,
somehow, all these unnecessary things are
filling me with what i do not crave for,
what i crave for
i do not have anyway
and so the retaliation comes
this way and that way where everything levels up
to fair and equal
unsatisfactions
what is the use of all these
you cannot understand anything about my everything
there is this thirst that does not ask for water
there is this hunger that does not talk about food
there is this home where there is nobody
there is this love that hates me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem