AUTHOR | POET
i’m not interested in your shell
and whether you carry yourself well
in the midst of the rubble
that topples your dreams.
i want to know if your shame
has a name and if so,
would you dare speak it out loud
in front of a crowd that’s
cheering for the greater good?
i want to know if you feel agonizing pain
and if so, does it have free reign
to dig trenches and settle in your bones?
or do you hoist it high
so others feel less alone?
i want to know if teardrops sleep
in your bed, and if so,
do you bottle them up in a jar
and give an offering to deities afar
in the hopes of a different
kind of salvation?
I want to know if you long for a love
that fits like a glove, and if so,
would you melt into its fire
and let it inspire
your soul to rest at half mast,
grieving, yet honoring
the sea of humanity’s crashing waves?
see, i’m not interested in your shell
and whether you carry yourself well.
i want to know if you feel,
what you feel,
what is true.
i want to know the real you.