I want you to see all the stories I’ve written for you But I’m scared the characters will chip and fall apart Serifs sharp like broken glass Are you still breathing while you drown in me? There is a curve In soft vowels that create you and any letter that drops below the baseline, like a sinking rock in the murky shores My words more often than not drift like wood at sea Part of something once But no longer whole And crushed constantly by blue waves of doubt That pushes and pulls me Into every direction Every lighthouse I've ever seen has never shined bright enough to guide me home
Poem with typographical diction (??). I wrote this piece a while ago and have edited it a million times.