ink bleeds deeper
when pressed hard,
soaks through paper and
leaves stains on the table.
you don’t look how i pictured.
you don’t look quite
how i remember.
i’ll tell myself
«i cannot surround me.»
but some smiles both ressurect,
and drain the life from me.
i don’t tell you everything.
it’s heartless,
the pictures remind me
i’m calloused to smiles.
