I am a poet,
Though words often escape me
I drown in all the poems
That I never wrote
I talk to the moon
Sing with the birds
Try to console the rain
Whisper to the breeze,
(may they carry my words far away)
I live with thoughts unsaid
With far away dreams
There’s a galaxy inside me,
Yet I express a single star
I am a poet;
A lunatic, if you may
A fool with fancy words
A dreamer with no sleep
I romanticize my rage
I try to make my flaws
And my agony loveable,
Rather than simply speak;
I am a madwoman.
I am a poet;
Though what I write about
Is beyond my reach
A feeling that words can’t carry
My soul has black blood
It has a desired to be spilled
In patterns and scriptus
On a sheet they call paper
I am a poet