"Morning sunlight kisses our bodies,
Messed up sheets by our tangled bodies,
Tracing each other's backs lovingly."

Imagine this,
Imagine the windows that I have made
The souls that I have traced
For I wouldn’t exist
If you don’t…
See the world that I have faced

I hope you’re still there…
On the other side of this page
Can’t you see?
There is nothing that I have made
If you turn the other way…

Imagine now…
My heart is spilled on this page
All is futile if you escape
My tears on the pillow case

Look into the eyes
Of the soul which you have read
For I am exposed
And of that I will never regret
And I wish that you will never forget

My last wish…

By the time it becomes visible
I'll have been in hell for quite a while
Tight mittens binding up my hands
Tempered wince behind the smile

Moist cement ...three feet deep
And a mind that won't think straight
Clumsy and slow...trudging along
In a fogged deficient state.

Simple things become so great
And the pain won't let me be
Slumber 14 hours long
Meet the new..unimproved...ME.

Dancing to the sea
The river will cease to be
But the sea grows strong

I  
                 F

L
    O
        V
           E
                     I
                        S
T
     H                
           E      
S
    H
       A
          P
            E
   O
        F
A

      H
           E
               A
                  R
                     T

                          T
                               H
                                    E
                         ­                N

A

     H
         E
            A
               R
                  T                  I
                        ­                S
W
    O
       R
          T
             H               D
                            R
                        A
       ­             W
                 I
              N
          G

we are not poetry
our tears don't have words
fit to describe them
to their exact measure of pain
our eyes are not the oceans
you compare them to
because you've run out of hues
our smiles aren't phrases
you heard in your past
nor is our laughter
equivalent to your favourite song
don't hide us between lines
and this fine black ink
let us grow and live
please let us be
for we are people,
and not poetry.