we've come a long way
from the days when we
passed notes between mates
secretly pretending
the words on the page
meant nothing
hiding them in pockets
to take them home
to smooth them against
the bed, reading every word
again and again and again
we've come a long way
from leaving little pieces
of paper, parts of our soul
on pillows and in bedside draws
from scribbled messages
on bathroom mirrors
written in lipstick the colour of
Siren Red and Bleeding Crimson
breaking out of our prison
we've come a long way
to being able to say
how much we mean
how hard it is to say the words
how easy it is to shove letters
into verse and choke
it's a long way from face to face
conversations that evoke imagery
from our distant dreams
it seems we've come a long way
with *Poetry