Last night I lived in a place where every person communicated in slam poetry.
We threw the truth out there beautiful and bare— clarity in metaphor. The words charmed even the few that found their niche in refusing to listen.
No sweet tooth for sugarcoats— we devoured in transparency. The right words flowed steadily out of our mouths and seeped down our chins— like we were born to do it.
Every expelled word gingerly painted by way of our eager tongues and thirsty lips. What we had to say could be stopped by nothing.
Now, imagine my disappointment when I woke up and couldn't even find the courage to tell you *“good morning.”