Brushing fingers
with ten people at once,
broken connections
a frayed rope
between us,
another
day to get through
Sometimes
I find my heartbeat
to be unbelievable
Sometimes
I choke my own
love,
rub my hands raw
Piercing eyes
draw my caught breath,
pull strings of words
out of my fingers
so when I
find a haven
I keep a pen
hidden in the furthest corners
and I sprint home
to give words
the gift of life,
tumbling down a
treacherous path,
mixing with teardrops,
framed in flames of fire
because sometimes
our best
is written
at our worst.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem