Brings me back

Poetry brings me back,

It brings me back to being 14,

When I hated my life and nothing was going right,

I didn’t like my mama or her guy friend,

I had one friend,

Her name was Poetry,

She was there,

Ready and willing to hear my secrets,

To express myself in ways,

That no one would understand,

I filled the pages of journals left and right,

I had a rough childhood,

And being able to let those things out helped me,

Even to this day,

When things aren’t going as I would like them to,

I turn to that journal,

And create a poem about my feelings,

And what I was going through at that moment.