And should I go?
Even when I want to stay.
These days, I curse a little
bit more.
And I eat a lot less,
there's something wrong,
and I cannot quite say what.
But I don't feel alright,
a metalic taste
inside my mouth,
nerves too wrecked
inside my stomach,
and I might puke,
any second now.
These people, I like them so.
But these people, they make me sick.
Should I go?
Even when I want to stay.
«_______»
YOU ARE READING
h a i m i s h
Poésie. . . haimish; moon talks, and alleyed pyols. . . . homes a collection of snippets from the times I feel most at home. prose/poetry
