By Morgan Hannah, Life & Style Editor
The gravity of their thoughts
Weighs on me
On my identity
My intestines
Are fastened up
Theyāve caused more anguish than help
You more help than anguish
And yet words
Like black lumpy sludge spills out from cupidās bow
In the centre of my face at you, at them
Does something better wait on the other side?
You are so gracious and give moments
Of contemplation and time
You donāt rush but you do stress
I am all of it at once
