If I could transform my very core into pages

If I could translate all my feelings to words

Then I you can bet I would


But I would only write it to read myself

Like a diary to gaze upon

With cold and bloodshot eyes

When I stay up all night,

Torn by my existence

I want to know why


I wish I could understand my feelings

And put myself into words

Maybe then

I would know what to do with me


If I could translate this hidden message

I am sure lies deep within

Maybe I wouldn't be beside myself

In trying to learn the meaning.

Maybe if I could write my wants

My needs

My thoughts

In a poem, or a simple lyric

I would know just what they were

But I can never find the words


Instead my insides speak in a foreign tongue

No dubbings, no subtitles, no dictionary

Just me listening to clogging whispers

Of which I can never decipher


My life would be so much simpler
If my heart knew English.