I Write

I write it down.
Somewhat poetically.
Spill my guts.
Somewhat poetically.
And then I read it later and I’m promptly ashamed
to read the truth of it all
so then I delete it and
go about my day
And then night comes and I look for it but I got rid of it so I write it again.
And the cycle continues.
Emote
Delete
So I don’t have to absorb it
and live the truth
or deal with the  things
that are eating me
from the inside out.
I guess that’s just the way it is.
I guess
that’s  poetry, baby.