why a poet?
because a poet
hears the words
which sing the
purest harmonies
because a poet
paints their portraits
in pastels
of phrases
because a poet
dances their agonies
into leaps of faith
and pirouettes
of passion
because a poet
sees
the beauty
in the commonplace
and captures
the moment
in a snapshot
of ink and white
because a bloodless world
cuts itself
a thousand times

and the poet bleeds

I feared that I would want him.
I feared that I would need him.
I feared that I would love him.
And I do.

But I am not afraid anymore.

-ARI

I feel sick
sick of you, sick of most everyone
sick of being tired and sick of being sick
I am fine and I am alive but there are corrosive chemicals around me
I am the most beautiful, unique creation, the summit and foundation
of this Earth- as a human person I am limitless but
I feel a poison eating away at me and I know exactly what to do to avoid it
for there are only a few who make me feel whole,
a few people, a few situations-
and I do not want to be fixed, I do not need that, no mortar or
molds to repair, all I need
is to stop being eroded- bit by bit,
and to stop crumbling into the deep-
and from there, I can repair myself-
I am good enough now
stop tearing me down,
I would like to shake off whatever chains have been laid on me
for though my body is restricted,
my soul is deeply, unbelievably free.

I believe my soul is rotten
Yet you say it is not

I see my face, it's so ugly
Yet you say I'm pretty

I think my body is destroyed
Yet you say I've earned my stripes

I know my heart is beyond repair
Yet you say you'll help mend it

Can you really see so deep into my eyes?
Into my soul?
My heart?
Sometimes I think you're blind
Because everything about me is *torn all apart

Everyone around me is falling into a pit of depression
Self hate, self concept, self image, destroyed
And I am desperately struggling to pull them out
But when I reach for one hand,
It means I'm letting go of the other