Something is always
About to happen.
You can hold your breath
And it will not stop it.
It will avoid your gasp
And surprise you
Like a snakestrike.
An unexpected pain slides
Into the space where
Breath and thought were you.
Time is the unbroken chain
Where it sits
And stalks the weakest links
That will give it rein.
It finds an invite to come wreak havoc.
Whether you cook it up,
Or you're nice about it,
There's nothing you can
Do about it
You let it in,
And now it's blown
An untidy, interesting mess,
From all the stuff
That was your life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This seems an intensely personal and powerful poem. Is it showing us a part of your life I can't remember you revealing before? If it is as autobiographical as it reads, I hope, I believe, that you will beat whatever it is that plagues you. X