Now that poetry has found me at last,
it feels like I can die any minute without it being in vain.
A poem is a poet's way to be a rebel,
to write is to live forever when nothing else matters.
How fragile is a poet's inner soul -
the one you condemn, rip out, and abandon to the sea.
I used to think I was dead already, someone without a voice
and then you came to me like love, without me even choosing
These words that fall from my pen each day
connect me to more than who I am, more than I could ever be.
And now I wonder, when I write my final word
take my final breathe, will you truly know me for who I really was?