There used to be a chair
In my head
Where I used to sit
Then I took a pencil and wrote this
Where can I run too?
Where can I hide?
Who will I turn too?
Now that I'm in a virgin state of mind
Got a knife to disengage
The voids that I can't bear
Cut out words
I've got written on my chair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem