Poetry taught me to grow,
That opening up didn't make me weak but strong,
Strong as hell.
Because poetry is not calm waters
But a strong wind
Wrapping your hair around your head,
It is ripping your heart out and showing it to the world.
It is screaming at the top of your lungs
With fire in your eyes
And a nuclear explosion in your veins.
It is waves crashing, pulling you under
You're drowning in emotions and stories
But you don't feel like you're dying
In-fact you're living.
It is life in its’ rawest form,
Bleeding onto the earth and into the skies.
Screaming out into the universe
Begging to be heard.
And one day I listened
Throwing myself into the storm.