Her Writing

she was told
to keep it professional
only write what others like
to keep her thoughts presentable

they didn’t know
every word she had penned
was a piece of her soul
that was expensive to spend

she stayed up into the night
to make the phrases
that had double meanings
all between the spaces

the smudges beneath her eyes
and barely open eyelids
were the price she paid
to send her love to every misfit

her work was never meant
to be edited and trimmed
it was meant to be raw
a brilliant truth that cannot be dimmed

every letter she has ever written
was meant for someone else
to know they are not alone
inside their hollow shells

every bit of her soul
poured into a poem
leaving her empty
and a little broken

but her eyes would shine
with the knowledge that
she had loved another lonely heart
and walked down another dark path

until she finally decided
to write a poem for her own mind
telling everyone who cared to read
that being professional is something she has left behind