I am a poet
am I
really
well I guess I
could be

I know how to
write in stanzas
and hit the ENTER key

My fingers
and the sides of my hands
are ink-stained
cut me open
and I bleed
blue black and red

I have learned
to tame the demons
in my head
with a well-placed
smattering of words

I can write worlds
into existence
and if I really tried
I could write down stars
into a jar
to hold on the coldest
of nights

So yes
I am a poet
an author
a keeper of words