Poetry... One word.

One word that holds so many feelings.

One word that has saved me in so many ways.

One word that has become my source of air.

My source of safety.

My source of life.

Poetry... My Savior

 

It all start through a man not a boyfriend or so.

But Edgar Allan Poe.

A man that spoke to my dark and broken heart.

A man that whispered to my soul.

One that opened a door and gave me...Hope and showed me art.

 

Poetry... My Mentor

My Mentor that gave me the materials I needed to fight.

My Mentor that gave me the power to stop.

My Mentor that gave me the strength to put the knife down.

To put the pain behind me.

To put the hatred away.

Poetry... My Savior

 

If I never read Poe's words could I have made it?

Would I still be cutting, could I have quit?

Would his poems dig deep and keep me alive?

Or would I still be a misfit?

Would I survive?

 

Poetry... My Savior

My Savior that made that problems bearable.

My Savior that walked with me each day.

My Savior that let me heal.

Let me breathe.

Let me be me.

Poetry... One word.