the skin of my neck
is tight
and my C5
and C4
are not that passable
and neurons
are working hard
it feels like a rope
and people talk
and i am not listening
i don't understand
what next to do,
and the Cheshire cat
grins
and says
'does it really matter? '
shit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem