"what do you want to do?" they ask,
looking for doctor, architect, lawyer.

i'm silent for a moment.

of course, i know what i want to do.
i've known for years.

but it's so hard to express my truth
when i know i'll be met with ridicule.

"i want to be a poet." i say.

they smile and call me a dreamer.
they commend my ambition and creativity.
their eyes scream j u d g e m e n t.

"what do you want to go to college for?" they try again,
hoping to get a better answer.
one that's more acceptable to society.

"well," i say, "i would love to take a creative writing class."

they raise their eyebrows.
that was not the answer they wanted.

"i just want to live my life through experience,
writing about everything i feel.
it's my greatest passion and my one true love.
i truly believe i have a gift." i add,
hoping they understand i'm serious.

i want them to know how hard i'm willing to work
to make this dream come true,
because fewer things are more attractive to an adult
as a teenager who is committed to a certain path in life.

"okay, mrs. poet,
what are you going to do to pay the bills?"

they really think they got me this time,
believing that all kids ever want is incredible amounts of money
and gadgets they'll never use.

but poets aren't shallow.

i chuckle at their attempt to stereotype me.
poetry is my end and my beginning,
what gives me joy.

so, yes,
poetry is a career.

she's a poet.

she's often labeled as an introvert
because she talks to few people.

she has a close circle,
and being with them gives her the greatest joy.
she feels understood by them.

as a poet,
she finds it hard to speak up.

she's used to spending
hours and hours and hours
rewriting her thoughts
until they perfectly capture the essence of her emotions.

speeches make her nervous,
she knows she only has one chance to make it perfect.

she's a chaotic perfectionist.

many poets have anxiety,
and she's just like them.

she's used to sharing her thoughts
with one person at most,
but even those thoughts have been filtered.

she knows those thoughts won't be accepted,
because most of them have been labeled
by society as inappropriate.

because people think her poem about sorrow
means she's depressed.

that her poem about passion
means she's a *****.

in reality,
she finds the strongest emotions to express
and puts them into words.

few people dislike the poet,
but only because they don't understand her.

she knows that revealing her thoughts
would make people judge her,
and there's fewer things she hates more than judgement.

the poet is a gem
that few people understand,
that few people appreciate.

she turns to anonymous platforms to share her art,
because even with her low self-esteem,
she knows her words are going to take her far.

the poet is one of the most beautiful people on this planet,
but she'll never know.

his eyes spoke of passion
while your eyes spoke of innocence

he bit his upper lip
while you formed a soft smile

his touch was full of longing
while you touched gently, if even at all

he had a fire burning in his heart
while you were ice cold

his whisper sent goosebumps down my spine
while you caused my laughter

i can't help but compare

but who won?
neither.

i want passion and innocence all in one.
i want to lose my innocence with you.