salt stings wounds
salt stings eyes, entering, leaving...
healing, healing. The sea will take you away.
I tire of hearing abot these migrants
well they tire of the rick-shaw of an untested boat
of their homes becoming rubble & dust clouds,
of seeing blood in the dirt.
As long as there is war,
as long as there is famine
as long as there exists somewhere
called 'refuge'
then there will be refugees.
Oh child, rocked to sleep by the tide...
you should never have to answer for adult violence,
innocent & sleepy, sinless.
You have been written in blood in the old books
you have been decided for.
Your dice have been rolled by strange hands;
born amid angry eyes,
and so shall die,
washed ashore upon sand,
carried quietly away
to your final crib
to your refuge.

I woke up this morning
I saw our old photo
We were so happy
I forgot why we both have that kind of smile
Just like how you have forgotten about us

So ugly
But it doesn't even bug me

My hair is dated, my clothes are faded
But this photo of me is my favorite

Crooked teeth, eyes begging for sleep
All the things that make this picture complete

My smile is bright
But you should've seen what was glowing in front of me

This is the photo I wasn't even looking
Because I couldn't take my eyes off of the person who took it

We’re like photos without filters, we don’t need filters to brighten up the mood. Just being with you is enough.

Every photo
Has a memory of its
Own to hold its hand

A photo may say a thousand words but they lack as much meaning.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

And a loss of them when you ponder
that moment in time when you were alive
and how things were

A longing to speak to a different you
with a harbored wish to tell them what's to come
and the feeling of remembering what you didn't know

Happiness knowing that person will become who you are now
with a quilt of pictures just like this
making the blanket of their existence
it has warm spots and cold spots that make the other what they are