Not Living

	By Kevork Kalayjian

	It's all around us, 
	like a silky mist that looms, surrounding our Souls. 

	the piercing pain in the pit of my Stomach,
	like pale eyes peering in my lies.

	the Acid that inches up,
	the Pulse that I hear,
	the Tears that roll,
	the Truth that I fear,
	this dread that I hold
	now I know, 
	I wish, I knew,
	To be the change I wish to see.  

	left there, 
	on my knees, 
	Elbows scraping the carpet,
	Hands over my Eyes,
	There is no world if I can't see one.

	Saliva leaks out onto the floor
	the Sweat and Tears slip away,
	Even my Body is trying to leave me.
	my Head throbs,
	as if my Thoughts came crashing,
	like a Fist to my face.

	My Lungs may breathe,
	My Heart may pump,
	but my thoughts will fail with each breath.
	if this is alive,
	Then I dread to know it.


Kevork Kalayjian is a decendent of refugees from the town of Kilis,
in the Cilician region of Armenia. An accountant by profession, he
likes to paint and write. His next project is to collect the names of
100 volunteer Armenian-American families who would like to resettle in
Armenia and jump-start a new way of work and life there. Some of his
poems have been published in Armenian media such as "Ararat" and at
www.poetry.com.