i dont call it poetry, i call it
melting onto paper like wax,
the words heal me in a way that the body can't.
when was the last time i ached with pain?
when was the last time i felt more than what
five feet and five inches
this vast world needs my
it needs to shift in its' seat
it needs to be rocked, shaken
and i think i need it too
poetry is to me as sidewalks are to streets;
i am not alone.
i am not alone in this world of words and wonder
i am allowed to get lost in something besides myself.