Being a poet
Changes everything
The way you look and experience
It turns pain into beauty
It breaks down time

It speaks for you when you don't know what to say
It comes at times you can't sit down and write it out
It can keep you awake at night
It may offer you a smile when no one is there to see

Poetry is my outlet
It connects me with others that understand
I have made friends from other lands

When you need someone to talk to
And no one is there
The paper will listen to your pen
And suddenly, you know you aren't that alone again

Poetry has saved me from myself
And it's helped me save others from themselves
It has taught me to take time to really see things
For the truth
To notice the little things that actually matter

Writing poetry is therapy with no judgement
I am writing this to say *thank you

I remember how you claimed to read me like a book
And then left me on the shelf
Forgotten by the person
I could never forget
Slowly quietly
Hiding behind closed doors
I remember
The time I loved you
Quickly frantically burying my tears
In the cloth of my sleeves
I remember
The time I loved you

Once again, I put paper to pen
I think of all the times I've wanted to quit
But there was still a rhyme scheme in my head
And oppritunity in bright seductive red

Off in the distance, but I can see it
Its only interested in poets with cranial diseases
It knows of self doubts and coyly plays
Among the pink labyrinth of our brains

She is beautiful and rare
She is destructive and snares
But she is momentum and change
A swinging gate of every phase

Scary yet essential.
I have forgotten how to do it.

I heard a song.
I think of you,
Of us.