I don’t want to mask my poetry

I want you to understand me

Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus

Your lyricism, your literary

When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.

Something channels through me

(I’ve never really found the root)

A demanding stream of consciousness

That cannot stop to breathe, let alone

Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft

I can’t!

...

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I am covered in
bruises.
i love them because
they are proof
of all the times i fell...
in love.
i am covered in
scars.
i love them because
they are proof
of all the times i thought i fell...
in love
but something else was there to catch me.
i have scraped knees
from being dragged
thru life by my heart
because it moves
quicker
than my feet.

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