left bosom--expired visa

with different terms--it bothers me
every fucking instant
i want to give myself a break
before i go crazy--
o heaven forgive me
for such wreched heart and words
but where can i go and what can i do
would not be a relevant question for you
i am damn sure about that

can i finish this poem when i get back myself
as lovers revive once they meet after
years of separation?
hello america
broken i am if that makes you happy
refugee--i am in all left bosom
half daze--
blue feeling--
second thought--
everything within a pot
hello america
are you breathing?
hello america!