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| Photo by Paolo Raeli |
his gaunt face blankly staring at me
he reminds me of
the bleak, penniless life of a writer
I no longer want to eat
my grandmother and I are having tea
her warm smile can cure any heartache
she tells me one of her stories about life in China
this one is about a past love
suddenly
she suggests more “practical” jobs
I could pursue
I could pursue
she is no longer smiling
my mother
who despises her job
laughs
“You’re eating now
but what about when you have no money left?"
all I see though are long nights
at the office
my eyes strained from the harsh, bright lights
stiff from hours at a cubicle
forcing myself to live for the sake of a wage
life does not move with
my heartbeat
but a paycheck
love comes in dollar bills
sanity is a small price to pay
I’m sorry that my heart swells with passion
that my chest beams with courage
I don’t cry the tears of
my mother
my father
my peers
who have never tasted fulfillment
but of a storyteller whose tongue
is coated with the purest of love
my income is my breath
words are my heartbeat
and I am ready to live
but what about when you have no money left?"
all I see though are long nights
at the office
my eyes strained from the harsh, bright lights
stiff from hours at a cubicle
forcing myself to live for the sake of a wage
life does not move with
my heartbeat
but a paycheck
love comes in dollar bills
sanity is a small price to pay
I’m sorry that my heart swells with passion
that my chest beams with courage
I don’t cry the tears of
my mother
my father
my peers
who have never tasted fulfillment
but of a storyteller whose tongue
is coated with the purest of love
my income is my breath
words are my heartbeat
and I am ready to live
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