Things I Know of

 

There are things

Everyone knows them

But not me

No

I

Only know love

Or the idea that comes

with the absence of it

Where there are lovers

Without faces

Their hands too soft

Their lips too close

In dreams

In the bus

In the car

I only

Know love

That we won't receive

Ever

I know hands

And lips

And the holy fingertips

That dance across the

Cool autumn breeze

Counting the birds dropping flowers

On our grave

I will only know love

That is too hard

Too bold and too sharp

Slitting throats all around me

A bloodbath of my freedom

A sacrificial ritual where

I

Both live

And die

These are the things

That I know of:

Prayer

Hands

Knees

Blood 

Death

Death

And death

a poem by Anonymous (s.h.) , their instagram handle: @badpoems.sh