[calum and rami]

Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme, it just has to touch someone where your hands couldn’t.

i’m sorry that when you found me i was already cracked open, insides spilling out like candy gone rotten, stuck to the pavement and dried up in the heat of the sun. i didn’t used to be this way. music didn’t always used to stab me right in the chest, and people simply looked like people instead of gods, always so above me. i wish you had come sooner. i wish you had seen my eyes back when they  still had the light in them, and when i had something nice to say about everything. where were you when i was still lovely? why did it take you so long? i used to be so much more than this collection of half-finished sentences  and resigned gestures, stale words and a heartbeat that never quite stays in tempo. i wish you had seen it. maybe you’d have loved me then.

Print is predictable and impersonal, conveying information in a mechanical transaction with the reader’s eye. Handwriting, by contrast, resists the eye, reveals its meaning slowly, and is as intimate as skin.