Anatomy of Love
Your Smile / Wrinkles, / Where my jokes weren’t funny.
Your Smile / Wrinkles, / Where my jokes weren’t funny.
Filled with fear and pain but love and hate / To raise it alone since he never agreed
We stand beneath tin roofs / with raindrops on our lips / regret behind our eyes.
Deeper than its captivating shape / lies a greater purpose.
So, one way or another / I keep craning my neck / Looking up.
I’ve thought about this for quite a while: / How much I owe to just a smile.
We all earn our way here / Paid in hours of studying / and minutes of fun lost.
“Eager and enthusiastic” / As I drag myself from bed. / “Positive energy” / Do you have an injury to your head?
I float in an ocean of sterile cerulean. / In this deep of drapery and gowns, / One could swim out and never see the shore.
I am waiting for my coffee when / a middle-aged Turkish man / asks if I am a medical student
5:37 a.m. in hospital scrubs / Just a few minutes with each patient.
They say you’re at the top of the class / I say I’m barely able to pass