The Blood In My Veins

May 8, 2016 at 6:27 PM

Poetry

The artwork constructed

By the human hand

And influenced by the mind

A mind full of unspoken words

Words of love

Words of hate

Words of regret

Words of healing

Poetry

Keeps past lovers alive

Memories that have been

Set on a movie screen

Are played on constant repeat

Poetry

Has made my mind free

As I grow and grow

With the words

Flowing like the blood in my veins

At first the words were simple

Starting in my head

Endless thoughts of past lovers

Then later

The words were constructed into

Paragraphs

Stanzas

Poetry

Poetry has become more than perspective

Poetry is art

Line after line

Stories were created

Pictures painted with the language of man

Poetry has become my midnight lover

As the words are easier to spill

When the silence becomes violent

Poetry is also my daytime lover

Words pouring out

On blank pages

Similar to relentless rainfall in this desert

Poetry

Is the blood in my veins

The neurons in my brain

The air that I breathe

I have been consumed into the art of poetry

Because I am art

It has been said that a routine is created within 21 days

It has been approximately 730 days since my first poem

The act of writing is no longer comparable to a routine

But an addiction

As the pages become hungry

As they growl for more stories to consume

Craving the words produced by my mind

Along with every stroke of a pen