Insane? Stupid? Risky?
Maybe.
Expressive? Freeing? Intimidating?
Absolutely.
Past mistakes, current life, reflective
That's my poetry.

If the right one doesn't come along
I didn't let my heart get rusty.
For my shame of the art has turned to joy
And secrets are best when they're shared.

I thought I was empty—
but the way words
poured from me onto the page
proved I was, in fact,
overflowing.

Brimming with ideas
echoing inside,
begging to be set free.

I spilled them all,
and now,
I am truly empty.
And it feels
so much better.

I will take all this pain
anxiety
nervousness
and turn it into poetry
Sometimes it will come out beautiful
Sometimes it will come out raw
Both
are deeply spiritual

You found this book on the last shelf
of an old, dusty bookstore
Yes
I didn’t write this to be a success
Only those who truly want to be healed
will find me