How can one express their heart
when words are not enough,
how can I even dream to start
when my tongue finds it so tough.

Let me try...


You are the graffitti
tagging
me as yours
you are the scent
of stale beer
in late night smokey bars
you are the
pain of paper cut
where lemon juice seeped in
and the bitter
taste of sugar
replaced by sacherin
you are the days
felt wasted
and night times thrown away
and the silence
found in laughter
just to keep the tears at bay
you are my anger
my sorrow
and my pain
and given
my time over
we would do it all again.


These are not insults
these are the depths of my heart.