You have your hammer down, foot stamping Passion Poets,
the ones who feel something and like a waterfall
similes fall out of their pen and land
they are LOUD and they are dynamic,
their metaphors are laser beams out of eyes,
they are the Crowd Raisers.

And you have your hearts open, eyes closed Emotion Poets,
the ones who love something like a fountain,
spilling over adjectives their words are
red, they are heated
yellow, they are revelling in that shade of
blue that poets hate to love,
they are the Heart String Pullers.

And then you have...
me.
I'm an imperfect, writer's block, In Between Poet.
my similes are more like a puddle than a waterfall,
all the same parts but nowhere near the power,
I am LOUD in all the wrong places
my metaphors are dead battery laser pointers, I am
not a Crowd Raiser.
My fountain spills over adverbs quickly dying
out my words are sort of... gray, they are
not Heart String Pullers.

But

We are all Poets
we are like similes
we are comparing our words to something bigger,
we are metaphors we find a way to put love into words,
put hate into words,
jealousy into words.
we are adverbs quickly coming to life in all its splendor
we are
All the Same.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of a country that’s done nothing for me.
I pledge allegiance to a ticking corporate time bomb, counting down the number of people left outside of its marketing cage.
Corporate fat cats full of rage, a million dollars isn’t enough,
Give me ten.
Corporate law superseding human rights, tying us tight to the system justifying injustice done to us.
I pledge allegiance to “by the people for the people”, turned “by the people, for the money”, the fuel of the freedom we value so highly as to put a price tag on it as if that is an acceptable measure of its worth,
How can we get much worse than now when there are thousands of people wondering how they are going to survive this month?
I pledge allegiance to impossibility highlighted on HD screens, the clarity not giving us a clear view of reality, our beauty is not,
Should not,
Will not be measured by the numbers on a scale.
The girls in the magazines don’t even look like the girls in the magazines, so why don’t we focus on something that can be reached?
I pledge allegiance to the flag of a country where being smart enough to expose rapists can have greater consequences than ****** somebody,
Where violating firewalls and proxies is worse than violating human bodies.
I pledge allegiance to
“She was asking for it”,
“Boys will be boys”, and
“What was she wearing?”
When a robbery is committed in a home, the police do not ask if your door was unlocked, or if your laptop was in plain view,
So when a robbery is committed on a body, why is that exactly what they do?
I pledge allegiance to a country where love is still illegal in 33 states.
We are the country of change, so long as nothing changes, I mean
Women still get paid lower wages.
I pledge allegiance to a place where who you are does not mean you get to be yourself,
Where masculinity is blue and being feminine is pink.
If you have ever been stared at for wanting to be a rainbow, I will stand by you and stare right back.
And I will no longer pledge allegiance to a country consumed by consumerism, Nationalism,
Commercialism,
Racism,
Sexism,
Fear.
Instead, I will pledge allegiance to the memory of one nation under God,
Indivisible,
With liberty and justice for all.

I remember the first time I said your name,
and I wondered how sounds can roll off tongues like raindrops can roll down windshields and spell out the things I can't say but I can feel, like how kids roll around in fields because it makes them feel good, and how dogs roll around with kids in fields because it makes them feel good, or how cats roll around wherever they want because they're cats and they feel like it,
or how I write really long pointless metaphors because they make me feel good. And the point is, I really like the feeling of your name on my lips.
And I remember the first time I heard your voice,
and how it was sweeter than any symphony I'd ever heard, and how it sometimes reminded me of birds and how they don't always fly in a straight line, because your symphony never played in a straight line unless you were singing. And even then I loved how it felt on my ears, especially when you said you would always be here.
I remember the first time I looked into your eyes,
and I wondered how oceans could fit into such a small space,
and I wondered how oceans didn't always have to be blue,
and I wondered if oceans would always make me think of you.
And even when your oceans were stormy, I knew that the waves would die down and the skies above the oceans in your eyes would hold the most beautiful sunsets I'd ever seen,
and I wondered if sunset would always be my favourite time of day.
I remember the first time you held me in your arms
because I was missing home, and your arms felt like the warmest home I'd ever known. And even now I sometimes miss that home and the way your arms would tell me everything is alright, and the way your oceans would surround me, and I wouldn't feel like I was drowning anymore.
I remember the night you were worlds away when you called me and said that you were afraid.
You didn't have to say it for me to know that you were afraid of yourself.
I remember how I could hear the oceans in your eyes running over, and I could hear your sunset skies getting cloudy.  
I remember how your symphony had off notes because one of the violins was broken and your oceans running over got everyone's music wet.
I remember letting your name roll off my tongue, and how it felt like a tank was rolling over my heart when your broken symphony rolled off
"I'm sorry, I just can't live like this anymore. I love you. Goodbye."
And I remember the oceans in my eyes spilling over until they ran dry, and screaming to a dial tone symphony that you can't leave me like this, because you promised you would always be here.
You promised.
I remember how there wasn't a sunset that night.
How, a year later, I still wish that you were only sleeping the last time I saw you.
A year later, when I pick up the phone I still wish it would be your symphony playing on the other end, because that sound was sweeter than any words I could ever write for you, but I'll write them anyways so maybe you'll know that a year later, when I see oceans I still think of you.
When I'm missing home I still think of you.
When I hear symphonies, I still think of you.
And I hope you know that a year later, sunset is still my favourite time of day.

I pledge allegiance to a country that's done nothing for me.
I pledge allegiance to this ticking corporate time bomb, counting down the number of people left outside of its marketing cage.

Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock

Clock counting down the number of days left until a new order passes, tying us tighter to the system we all say we want to avoid, the system hiding in the shadows of everything we do.

I pledge allegiance to "by the people for the people" turned "by the people for the money" because that's the fuel of the freedom we value so highly as to put a price on it, as if that's a measure of its worth.

I pledge allegiance to impossible standards laid out in HD clarity on screens too far from reality to reach, sending the message that worth is now measured by a number on a scale instead of what's in your heart.

I will no longer pledge allegiance this false sense of truth hiding behind a mask of lies,

Instead I'll pledge allegiance to the memory of one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Tearing apart the seams of my sewn up heart, because I'm sick of feeling fake fixed.
I'm sick of all the insincere apologies, the half truths told to cover up the lies.
I'm sick of feeling like at any second the seams of my heart could break
open, because of an offhand word you say you didn't mean.

Scratching at the scars on my torn up mind, reminding myself that I made it through,
even when the universe said I couldn't. I'm sick of being doubted.
I'm sick of you saying I can't.

Pulling at the strings of my marionette life,
trying to remember how to work them by myself.
But you're the master puppeteer, controlling my every move.
I'm sick of being controlled. I'm sick of leaving my life in your hands,
only for you to leave it on a dusty shelf in the back of your attic
with all the other hearts you've stolen.

I'm sick of needing you.