what comforts can you offer
to a person who smiled
when he was told

“you’re dying”

and he lived?

is the poem a visitor
that the poet guides across
the river Styx
and into the afterlife
of the reader’s eye?

or is the poem a piece
of the poet that they break off
to share with the world
in hopes of understanding
but at the cost
of their wholeness?

or is the poem the energy
of the universe channeled
through both willing
and unwilling conduits
that you know best
as the poet?

or is the poem just words
scribbled purposefully
but for reasons uncertain,
created in a brief flash
of white-hot inspiration
or in a soothing release
of the dull, aching
need to create?

when the poem sits there,
steaming hot and fresh on
paper or screen, the poet
knows the answer to this
question.

ask them again, any other time,
and they could not tell you what
a poem is, just how they feel and
if the next one is coming soon.

I'm a lump of coal
Looking for a diamond
Who remembers what it's like
To not believe in yourself;
Who's willing to wait for me
To finally show what I'm worth

You've been away for awhile, and I've got a lot to say
A lot of things have happened since that devastating day
I want you to know what's going on in my world
I'm gonna be a mother, daddy
I'm having a baby girl

You won't be here when she finally comes into my life
You won't be here when she's the flower ******* the day I become a wife
You will never tuck her in and kiss her goodnight
She'll never meet you, and to me it's just not right
It's like a knife to my chest
A blow to my soul
It's not fair she'll never know the man that gave me life
But I'll do my best to make up for it, I'll tell her every night
The ways in which you loved me and made me who I am
So that I could create this baby girl, and love her like I can

I'll love her unconditionally
Just the way that you loved me
And I'll love her just as much
When she tells me she hates me

I'll look her in the eyes and be reminded of the days
You looked into mine, and loved me this way

Sadistic Queen,
how are you so mean?
Your punches are subtle,
but leave me with internal bleeding.

I love the way it stings.

Bring me another poisoned fruit from your tree.
Make my stomach ball tighter than a white-knuckled fist.
Hit me again,
you beautiful bruiser.
I've never before felt a pain such as this.

You are a *******'s *******.
Take one step closer and I swear, I'll scream.
****** ****** doesn't even hold a candle
to this twisted, grisly, nightmarish scene.

It's almost more than I can handle.
Stop it.
Stop it!
You're hurting me!