Humming birds don't come
Around my house anymore
But it is April
So I sit by the window
And look outside in mad hope

through words,
I heal my wounds
by completely exposing them

A good poet speaks to a generation.
A great poet’s work echoes loudly through the ages.
The rest of us just talk to ourselves and hope someone is eavesdropping.

She rotated it 180.
Tied the loose ends.
pretended with books, every kind.
Tried to **** it in the oven.
Tried to prison it in her mind.
Took it to  beach
Tried to bury it in the sand
Tried to drown it in the water
But it came back... every time
Stronger than before...