Accents
Your accent is the English subtitles you
would leave on the TV because that’s how you
learned English, and they made you
feel at home. Your accent became the
heavy circles around your eyes, they looked identical
to the rings on your coffee table that I stared at as you
told me that your
parents don’t approve. Your Bosnian-American accent
is the identity struggle you keep inside. Your accent used
to whisper my name in my ear when I touched
you anywhere. Your accent is now proof that some words
never quite translate between two different languages.
You would rather not say anything at all
cherishing the syllables that don’t fit into your words
because remaining silent is all you’ve known.
Relative Matter
We rarely sit with ourselves,
and see the struggle within us all
Stop letting the concrete jungle
tuck you in at night
lower one leg at a time and remember that
pain is also your connection to the living
His shirt blew behind him
a flag in the wind, his desired last stand
His hands spread inches from the rain
and the window washer’s rope
that hangs above the 24th floor
He told me love was much more
than a chemical within us all
with a fancy name
Sara Schraufnagel’s poems have been published in several print and online publications, including the Legendary and Aleola Journal of Poetry and Art. She is the sole contributor to the blog Sincerely Sara at sincerelysaras.tumblr.com.
work to a calm 
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