Someone asked me what being a poet is like.
And I blushed.
Not because I was called a poet
(Which I'm not)
Not because my poems embarrass me
(Sometimes they do)
But because being a poet
Is like that dream.
You know that dream,
where you're naked in front of a class?
Being a poet, painter, and musician
Is like being naked.
You're exposed to the world,
The most private parts of you exposed.
Ready to be judged, lauged at, criticized,
And loved.
It's like the world is looking at you.
The ugly scar on your chest,
Stretch marks from being spread too thin,
Fat pockets from when you weren't strong.
Someone told me I have a comma problem,
It hurt, like somone telling me I was ugly.
I know I'm beautiful though.
I love my imperfections.
My writing is my own, unique.
No critisizm can stop me from being me.
I lay my words uncovered, unaltered
On the page. They wait, breathlessly.
Sometimes being a poet is hard and brave,
Other times it's fun and easy.
Someone asked me what being a poet is like
I said it was great, and then I started to
Write.
(Undress)