What can I say?
What can I do?
Jot down the language
of my life.
I'll scrawl the words that
my heart beats to,
that my brain halts at,
the words that change me,
and you and everyone.
All these words,
I think will save me,
and you and the world.
And everything I know now,
have ever known,
is there,
in front of me,
the only way I can understand.

I write the words
that my heart screams at me at night
in my ever waking sleep
a pen in my hand
and pad at my fingertips
the only remedy
to the sleepless nights
because words can burn and sear and cut
but they calm me, cool me and heal me
like aloe on sunburned skin

I'll write a few words
scribble them down
for no one to see but me

I'll write several words
just to open me up
for my close friends to check

I'll write my whole life
and hope it's alright
for the whole world to judge

And in the very end
I'll sit here wondering
if my poetry changes you
like it always changes me