my life is a poetry book
and every day is a poem,
i try to keep sunlight between the pages,
not knowing how to hold it in my hands,

my life is a poetry book,
i don’t have a title for it yet,
it’s about a boy who’s seeking happiness
between pages of self-written novels,

my life is a poetry book,
365 poems a year,
i write free-verse during creativity surges,
on black like tar nonexistent beaches,

my life is a poetry book
and my head is a library,
filled to the brim with forbidden novels,
that disappear temporarily during day,

my life is a poetry book,
it’s pretty much themeless,
once i throw paper planes like missiles,
then i’m drowning in my inner darkness,

my life is a poetry book,
i’m writing with my own blood,
sometimes i want to publish it already,
but i can’t leave a sentence unfinished.