u know i write for no one
not a single eye judges or plants bias into my
poetry or what i wish it could be
or how i want it to be perceived
i write for no one
not for my mother or the old lady at the grocery store
i write because if i don’t, i will bleed from the inside out
or throw up my guts and love that burning from the acids in my stomach
i write for no one
so nothing can phase me
i want criticism, i just don’t think i want to admit the genuine me
i will be fatigued by the corse fingernails digging beneath my skin
using me as a fix
i write for no one
because i write for me
without the pressure of a crowd or a community
it is me, the one singular being
i taste the residue of the tinted pages
and blow up like a puffer fish
while every rabbit of my emotional baggage
gets eaten by a snow fox
it’s at my fingertips
and i feel enough
i write for no one as i write to u
and that’s why it’s the most compelling thing to do