a lot of me in my poetry.

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some days, I wish I could feel less, 
that I could take out all the emotion 
that I have inside of me, 
all the feelings that I refuse to accept, 
and set them inside, 
in a bicycle tyre, 
that never made it to the garage. 
some days, I wish all of my unsaid words, 
would make their way, 
tumble off my tongue, 
in layers and layers of phrases, 
and sentences, 
that I could never utter out loud, 
and settle in a painting, 
that I could show the world, 
that would speak for me, 
and spell out everything, 
everything that I am, 
everything I want the world to know. 


some days, I wish, I could write 
enough poetry, 
to untangle who I am,
and be what I feel. 
On others, 
I wish I could shut out my poetry, 
hide it away from the most raw, 
and honest parts of my being, 
let it be, 
in all its emptiness, 
and hollowness, 
like a lot of me, 
without a lot of my poetry. 
some days,
I’m a lot of my poetry, 
loud, fierce, fearless, 
on others, 
I let it consume me, 
and all that I am.

_a lot of me in my poetry.

National Poetry Writing Month, Day 28.

Poetry Prompt; “never go full poet”


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