Words can be bittersweet
Like watching rain from the window seat.
They remind me of some better times
But a lot of poetry is reading between the lines,
Because poetry makes as much sense as a midnight sunrise.
I can tell you the hell I’ve endured;
Show you the scars of my past if you prefer.
To find comfort in a word or phrase
Thats warmer than a cup of tea on Sundays,
Because poetry makes as much sense as 366 days.
Are others out there feeling the same?
Not excepting the world to fit into a picture perfect frame?
It would eat me alive if no one understood
The scribbles on my paper about growing into adulthood
Because poetry makes as much sense as torched firewood.
I cant say why I write what I do,
But I can say it holds me together like imaginary glue.
It fills the empty seams,
Like nuts and bolts in a mechanical machine
Because poetry makes as much sense as 21st century teens.
Writing it down connects every thought in my head
Allows me to forgive the boy that was a real dickhead.
And I can breathe in deep without my head tempting to collapse in,
the ink sets and everyone can read me from within
Because poetry makes as much sense as a cage made of safety pins.
Those safety pins,
21st century teens,
And 366 days
All make sense to me when I’m reading and writing poetry.