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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My time

Is not mine

But our time

You’ve made your bed in my dreams

I lie in it

But 

this isn’t me

See,

I would part with my skin

If it weren’t attached 

And never look back

But

Each night when I close my eyes for sleep

I see you in my head

Your feet poke out one side of your bed

And oh,

It makes me giddy for you

And so,

I end up crawling in bes...

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