Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

But I am a bad and sad poet.
My words don't enchant spells, they dont talk about ends. And home is not a place.
Certain minutes, I think of singing songs out for you. Or play the piano.
What would I? Mozart.
Or let my fingers slip around the strings of guitar, like I would through your hair
Or maybe recite lines from DiCaprio films.
Or maybe just utter syllables of your name, like they are my seek for salvation. Like I don't do that enough.
But of all choices to reach out for you, I choose to not.
I write.
I pour my broken words into dusty papers. Like a drunk man drowning in wine of sentences.
So the birds, darks and skies may take a look
Because light travels faster than sound.
I wrote about you and me and physics
How we suck our pains, transfer the gains when our lips meet
How repulsions vanish as our bodies meet
How my gravity finds its footsteps ending at yours
We are not of different atoms and molecules.
So are we physics? We are not.
We are nothing.
But I am a bad and sad poet, aren't I?
I make most things with nothings
And I write. Of all choices.
And let my eyes fall on them.
So times when they fall on you, look at them. My words are to reach you.
Even when I would be dumb. Even when you would be deaf.
Because light travels faster than sound.
Says physics.

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