Words are daggers in your hands
So I ask no questions
Still. 'Did you ever love me? No don't answer that.'
Every dawn a mockery to my hopes
But you were my best friend
Memories of you are thorns in my skin
so skin I rip off
sleep an illusion.
I keep it all inside, it's all I can do.
The circus revolves, and revolves all over again
It's just, each time feels like a first.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem