Bubbling Underneath

Poetry.

I don’t use it as much as prose; 

But to me, sometimes it’s like lava

Or a geyser,

Bubbling, restless beneath the surface,

Until it comes spewing out,

Splashing all over the page,

Letting the paper know my thoughts,

My feelings,

What I am going through.

It releases pressure,

And I am able to, later on,

Sit back and understand what I was thinking

And see what my subconscious was up to.

It is surprising sometimes,

To see how much I knew, or how much I didn’t know

Just by looking at the page.

But either way,

It forms words for my feelings,

And puts sentences to my opinions,

And helps me tell a story when I need to.

That’s why I write poetry,

Because of it’s clarity;

But mainly, because of the urge to,

Like the boiling water bubbling underneath.