What does it mean to be a poet?
Is it sighing out your breath slowly and carefully onto paper?
Or is it cutting into the blood in your veins ripping yourself apart till the world sees your bones laid bear?
Maybe it’s both or neither.
Maybe it’s just throwing words at a wall hoping some of it makes even the slightest bit of sense.
Poetry for me is the tearing but it is also the crying and the burden of having thought by thought tickle at my brain until it starts scratching and I’d explode if I didn’t let the words fall away from me and onto the blank and foreboding page.
What is poetry for you?
Is it your lovers hands over yours guiding you to write the story of how you ache somewhere deep?
Is it the pain you’ve carried from some dark place of suffering some tragedy your not even sure anyone truly cares about?
Or is it your soul that your drag with your words trying to sew something together to keep yourself feeling some semblence of whole?
What is your poetry? Does it sigh or does it ache like mine?