I remember the first time I heard a poem and knew it was poetry.
Sitting in an audience twiddling my thumbs wondering when this stupid class would be over I never
Expected to find this interesting
Until they walked on stage
Every one of them dressed in black
I knew none of them
Minds wandering as one of those strangers walked forward, leaned toward the mic
My apathy and boredom causing me to ignore him
Until he spoke
He opened his mouth and the words fell out
But these were no ordinary words
They were filled with helium
And as they floated off his tongue up to the heavens
They took the mask hiding this mans face with them
He wasn’t a stranger anymore
We knew his dreams, fears, aspirations
He was an inspiration sending sensations in the form of goose bumps up my arms
I listened as the strangers surrounding me dissolved into something more familiar
Telling me their stories
Hearing their sweet voices would cause the corners of my mouth to curl up creating this Cheshire cat smile
While I was too afraid to snap or clap
Not thinking my opinion was worthwhile
All I did was listen
You see
I’m usually quiet
These thoughts run circles through my head
Until the ruts they make hit the bottoms of my feet.
With stuttering lips and chewed cheeks
Shaking hands, pounding heart beat
I tried to be that old stranger who was now a friend
I tried to speak
But my voice was weak
The muscles controlling my sounds
Crumbling from years of mistreatment
Somewhere deep inside my throat the thoughts they get hung
On something
Until one night at four in the morning suddenly the flood gates opening
My words flowing faster than the ink I used to try and jot them down
And with unstable body itch and twitch
I stood under those bright lights
Saying
this is me
this is my voice
Poetry gives me a voice
And now
You can still watch my legs quake my face turn red my voice shake
And sometimes my words fill like lead rather than light
But ******* at least I’m trying
this is my catharthacism
Helps to feed my narcissism
Tell me
What the **** is wrong with loving yourself?
I love myself
Say it
Write it
Because proclaiming your love or putting it to paper makes it that closer to the truth
Just Fake it till you make it
If I didn’t I couldn’t take this world
And I want so badly to keep on living
Breathing Speaking Listening
To your poetry
Until there are no more strangers