Why you’re the poem,
and oh, how you’d believe it
if I kissed you right.
We have Saturdays
The way that you Love
You look familiar to me
The Source of your Love
And all of this life ahead
I stay here for you
What if when I die
The mystery of your soul
Is unsolved by mine
Too emotional
And I’ve been called far, far worse
I’ve been called yellow
“What the bullet’s love
didn’t look like: Gratitude.”
-The Scar On My Heart

My blessed teacher
My ego’s sworn enemy
My joy deflated