I eat poetry for breakfast, lunch and dinner
I especially love them as midnight snacks
Been chewing and swallowing them for years
I've learned how to digest them into my system
Let them flow through my veins and use them as energy for when my body needs it most
But I'm still learning how to ***** words into blank pages
I'm still learning the art of throwing up emotions for anyone to see
Cause I'm afraid that ink have the capacity to blacken an entire paper
Leave sticky smudges on my fingers
Difficult to remove
And when I do succeed in cleaning my entire hands of it
I'm scared I'll realize that I like it better with stains
I'm still learning how to let go of things and of memories.

I'm still learning how to let people go.