Poetry of Jonny Alexander Nay

Weakness, is not a flaw,  Nor is it less than I.  A foreigner, threat. Within you, Hear the hearts cry  "I am weak, brother..."  Would you not come and rest your head upon my knee, So that I can give all of my strength, to thee?

I went out and walked alone, over, the cracked white floor, of the Salt Flats. I lite a fire in the desert, and it burnt a hole in me: that was then taken up by the night-sky. To set myself free from the thought, that they would never know. But now, the stars, that are now inside of me, seem to say: But perhaps they did.

In moments of pain, retire, to return again. Go into, a cool dark room, or dash, out into the sun and bloom