Remember that time you had your heart broken by that girl you first loved?
Not an elementary love, but the real stuff
Or when you felt lost because your father was out of your life?
He was never there.
Or when that white guy called you a nigger in Cleveland?
Misguided racism, yet it still tasted sour
Or when you set foot on campus for the first time, scared you were going to be alone again?
You hate feeling alone.
Or when you were so depressed, trapped between life and death, you debated which way to go?
Each time, you plunged your pen into your heart
Soaked it with nature’s ink
Wrote away the sadness
Yet, it wasn’t sadness
You were sad, yes
But it felt as if a drain was perpetually sucking you into this dark chasm
And you kept trying to climb out of it
Because you didn’t want to see what was on the other side
You couldn’t let it get that far
Each time, words vomited onto the page
You didn’t care how they looked, how they sounded if they were even spelled right
The release was enough.
And fortunately, the words formed a poem
And you felt a bit of happiness because you made something grow out of nothingness
At that moment, you felt life
All the strings tightened
Holding you up
A life full of that sadness wouldn’t have been a life
It always ate at you
Consuming all the vital parts you needed to live
No one around you knew of the demons re-shifting the pieces inside you
Cutting pieces of their demon flesh off
Mixing it up with yours
Until you forgot,
You forgot how to be you
Not sure how to put the pieces back together
Or which ones were even yours originally
But there was poetry helping you along
Helping you re-configure your lost soul
What hasn’t poetry taught you?