It's Me, Poetry


For New Year's

two years ago,

I asked for a fountain pen

instead of an iPod because

at that point, the words would

flow out of me like blood from

a fresh cut.


Many people say

they are speechless.

I'm not.


I can find the words

to convey these feelings,





Spare me the pity which

You conjure because you think

that I'm "so quiet."

My poems can overpower

Your loudest thoughts,

and I won't have to say




I'm a poet.

I write because I crave it.

Because I am poetry.

I am my own blank, creamy page.

My own side note

in the corner of the notebook.

And my poems

are Me.


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