Ivy
What if your face was a poem alone?
I bet
People would read it and cry,
And some would feel inflated afterwards
Because they witnessed something
Blessed.
If your legs were a poem,
I know
People would read it and sit down,
And they would know how far you’ve come
Because their muscles would be
Shaking.
I made your heart a poem,
And I read it to others so they’d cry,
And they’d run their fingers in their hair
Because they can’t believe that you exist
Here.
