I lie to myself sometimes.
Tell myself I'm fine,
That I can live without it.

I miss seeing my breathe
pour out in front of me,
so I can see my inside.

fog up the glass
that is telling me lies
It is not the true mirror.

I never thought
I'd miss it
as much as I truly do now.

The truth is I felt
That it didn't matter
what I wrote.

Now I know,
poems, don't just help
you cope.

Poems have the key.
Show the mirror
of what we could achieve.

They do not just
tell the past,
the pain, and woe.

They will help us fly.

-3nwlry