Can my life be like poetry?
I already see everything as a movie
And beautiful dramas play out before me
Can every word a I speak be a stanza?
Every yell and complaint a sonnet?
Or what if every time I spoke to you
It was a haiku?
In my body is where the punctuation starts
And my heart is the exclamation mark
Breathing in spaces and commas
Thinking in questions and run on sentences
Dreaming in synonyms and hyperboles
Rhymes about past lives
Inside paragraphs about past loves
Metaphors and similes about people I want to be