scholarship slam 2016

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Poetry and I, We are inseparable.  We are long lost friends Who found each other Inside cracks of foaming hate And melting sorrow.    Poetry and I,  We are connected by truth. 
  The days in which I’m met with burden in dreaming in reaching in swallowing between the breaths   Those days
  A deathless twist in which my hands grow sore Obtuse in my mood by the mark of the four And by sun’s meridian I haven’t got more But to shamefully begin again
All my heart, With the blood it pumps. All the air, That fills my lungs. They could take it all,
You were a drug. I had a taste and I took a part of you and you took a part of me. You were a way to escape to somewhere else, now that I felt I never want to leave. 
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