Shaped

Shaped



I’m speaking to you in the shape of a poem
Its round in the middle
And its ends are made of gold
I’m writing to you in the shape of a light
Its dim because its dying
And it doesn’t care much to fight
I’m crying to you in the shape of a stone
Its walking all alone
And it looks like it doesn’t know the way back home
I’m looking at you in the shape of a lover
Its edges are salivating
And enticing me to rip out my heart and give it to you
I’m yelling at you in the shape of a knife
Its telling me to come and cut out what’s left of my life
And its ready to strike
I’m speaking to you in the shape of a poem
In the shape of a cold road
In the shape of a door closing
I’m writing to you in the shape of my misery
In the shape of a poem