The teeter

I have soft spots

for broken things

broken people.

My finger

teeters around their wounds

sometimes the wounds

they tell tales

and sometimes

the wounds

they swallow my finger

whole.

– Meysa Addeh

Tattoo

my lover

he once told me

that he would like to be tattooed onto me

but between my ribs pounding with the octaves of his words

my skin delirious for his curious touch

and my mind

immersed with the thrill that he brought forth

I forgot to tell him

I forgot to tell him that I didn’t like tattoos

– Meysa Addeh

T. S. Eliot

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.