My poem touches and caresses the paper
Words interlace and blaze on the sheet
Silent tears of ink,
bleeding emotion, soundless screams
I speak the words trembling, in fear’s face.
Their quintessence travel the breeze in a whisper of sound,
with rhythm, passion and metaphorically masked famine.
Speaking of where I’ve been, where I am stuck
and where I long to go but cannot.
Does the gaining impetus carry my cries to your ears?
Or will I again be cursed for this thirst?
Can you taste the salty mist on your tongue,
as my tears bend beneath the weight of the breeze?
Pulled in trickling sideways streams from the sea of my heart.
Can you hear what they say?
Screaming for someone to see past my worst act.
If you would only touch me with a hand of kindness!
And see my humanity.
Then, my heart would become a healing rainmaker,
released through my fingertips
and spoken through my lips.