Reading

Writing 

Living

Poetry

Words in motion,

Trying to capture their rays

And magnify the feelings

So that maybe someone relates

Press the wings of the trembling words to examine what I've learned

Gazing intently reveals more than expected

I see the first breaking out,

The song poetry from when I was seven years old,

The haikus in sixth grade,

When I wrote about the shape of the clouds and thought I was so original.

I can almost feel the first shaky flight

The first time I let my angsty pre-teen self write my instense feelings via slam poem,

The channeling of other firsts into someone else's characters

The clunky word choice,

The cringey edits.

I see the joureys that have left the wings with new patterns and shapes,

The first late night, sharing my latest writing that I worked so hard on, praying for approval,

The computer screen gently glowing on my face, 

Revealing the tears that ran down my face from the exciting dread

The bonds created with new friends, laughing with each other over our confusing sadness

I've learned from this form of art

How to be me

And how to view my history, my milestones

I've learned 

How to accept my painfully growing

Self

How to appreciate 

The changing version of myself 

And how to be 

Okay