Born Like This

Poetry wasn’t a choice.

It showed up at my door

like a small, rabid animal

I needed to nurture.

Like a scar,

like my eye color.

Before book sales,

before applause,

before anyone gave a ****

I was jaded by color.

Sunsets weren’t cute.

They were edible —

pink and orange,

soul food.

It burned my tongue,

made me breathe deep,

made me want to capture them

with words.

Pain had a smell —

lonely, bitter,

like stale beer,

familiar before it made sense.

The world rushed at me —

too loud,

too sharp,

too close.

Poetry was how I survived it.

Pen and paper,

faithful and warm.

I don’t write for followers

or fame.

I write because

a blank page

was never an option.

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Written by

59 / M / Clear Lake

Notes: I just posted a new long-form reading on my YouTube channel — the first half of my short story Whoops! along with two poems, There Was a Time Without the Internet and Under My Bed.
If you’d like to hear the pieces read aloud, here’s the link:

👉 YouTube Reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kq0UTaJahjg

All my books are available on Amazon.
Thanks for reading and for all your support.

We have a Zoom meeting where a bunch of us get together on the last Friday of every month and read our poetry. I hope more people come. It's a blast.

— Thomas W. Case
Tags: #writing #poetry #life #art #thomaswcase

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