Poème

This thing in me, which doesn't hurting me.
Like a rainy fall, these tears flowing along my face day and night.
This thing in me, which doesn't destroying me.
Like an endless road, this pain is an unending fierce fight.

Blinding my eyes, hearing voices, feeling the death near me,
I understand that life tries to offer me a second chance
but I refuse it as life isn't worth being lived slowly.
I want to feel free, freed from these chains.

Amélie.