幸存者羞愧就像是

Survivor's guilt sounds

我知道自己做了什么

like my sister getting beat in the next room

姐姐却为此在隔壁房间挨揍。

for something I know I did.

问题就在这里——我做了。

That's the thing-- I did.

我没做。做了，没做。

I did not. Did, did not.

我做了我做了我什么都没做。

I did I did I did NOTHING.

幸存者羞愧就像是

Survivor's guilt looks

里奇装满子弹的枪，

like Ricky's loaded trigger--

在生活里遭遇的失败

a round he lost in life,

在他的枪里面找了回来：

but found in his gun:

一颗子弹如迟到的救护车一样哭叫

A bullet that cried like an ambulance come too late.

一颗子弹为了本可以做点什么，

A bullet that cries about what could have been done

却只能躲在开花的脑袋里而哭泣。

besides taking refuge in a blossoming mind.

一颗子弹一直不停地哭泣

A bullet that will weep relentlessly

因为除了里奇

because everyone survived

每个人都活了下来。

except for Ricky.

至少我曾经是这么想的。

Or at least I used to believe so.

我的负罪感

就像是霉菌和一束花。

My guilt looks

花属于死者

like mildew and a bouqet of flowers.

霉菌属于仍在我皮肤留下污渍的眼泪，

Flowers for the dead

这皮肤，这皮肤——

and mildew for the tears still staining

my skin.

我觉得已经不适合再穿

This skin, this skin--

奶奶过世时

我穿的东西，

well I didn't think it was fitting to wear

或者是目睹了许多人

the same thing I did when

被大风刮走时我穿的衣服

my grandmother passed

所以我试着裁剪

or when I witnessed

那些仍然存留的东西，

souls run cold like stiff breezes

作为供物献上，

so I tried to cut the pieces

为我所做的事情惩罚自己。

that are still present,

make an offering,

没做。做了。我没做。

punish myself for what I did.

没做没做没做。

我什么都没做。

Did not. I did. I did not.

Did not did not did not.

幸存者羞愧

I did nothing.

就像是某人喝了毒药

却等待我死去

Survivor's guilt feels

我却没有大声地说出来

like neglecting to reject the parts

我并不因此嫌弃自己。

of me that don't speak up

when someone drinks poison

恭喜——我现在像钉子一样坚韧

and expects me to die.

但我依然会遭遇挥来的拳头

和闲言碎语，我努力擦去瘀痕，

Congrats--I'm tough as nails

除去弟兄姐妹们的不幸。

but still eating knuckle sandwiches

我知道我带给他们许多的痛苦。

and air sandwiches trying to unbruise,

我做了但没有消除

trying to undo my siblings' tragedy.

语言，肉体和精神上的折磨。

I know I caused them a lot of pain.

I did but did not releive the

虽然我在父亲焦虑的两端，

verbal, the physical, the emotional torture.

但仍然有些事情

我们不会去说，

Though I was on both ends

我知道，对于我的兄弟姐妹们

of our father's angst and there are still things

叫他“爸爸”， 就像是对着

we don't speak about,

一颗金苹果，无法下口

I know that calling Him "daddy"

was a golden apple my siblings couldn't

幸存者羞愧

sink their teeth into.

就像是所有我没找到的玫瑰

如果没有人爱

Survivior's guilt smells like all the roses I didn't find

就努力学会爱自己。

trying to learn to love myself when no one else would.

只是荆棘和掩埋的绿色花蕾，

Just thorns and green buds buried, reproducing the kind

重新长出某种仇恨

of hatred branded on my insides and carved on my flesh.

刻进我的肉体，印在我的心里。

This I did. Did not.

这个我做了。没做。

I did not. I did

我没做。我做了

I did I did

我做了我做了

I did the unthinkable and sailed across

我做了不可思议的事，并且横跨

the sea of How Many Cares Don't I Give

如此的大海：不在乎付出多少

When Trying To Off Myself So Im Not A

当我努力放下自己，

Component of Insanity But An Object Of

以避免疯狂，告别过去。

Goodbye.

幸存者羞愧

Survivior's guilt tastes

就像是话到了舌尖

like words on the tip of my tongue

声音却哽住了

but choking back my voice

只剩下这无用的泪水。

instead of these useless tears.

它就像你亲吻了剪刀，

It tastes like kissing a pair of scissors

烙铁，或者缝衣针。

or a flat iron or a sewing needle.

就好像说我岂不是从小就

Tastes like wasn't I raised to be

更倾向于用仍未愈合的伤疤

less than speaking up by way of scar tissue

说话吗？

still healing?

脑海里的声音告诉我遗忘是一件很轻松的事

Voices in my head make oblivion feel like home

但是在我是如何生存下来，与

but survivior's guilt is the barrier bewtween

不断涌现出来的

how I survived and thoughts rampantly dripping with

自杀的31种味道之间

Suicide in 31 Flavors.

横亘着幸存者的负罪感。

And I did not.

我没做过。

I did I did I did

我做了我做了我

Nothing.

什么都没做。

This poem is about:

这首诗是关于：

Me

我