She walked up on stage.
Her chin up,
Body leaned into the microphone.
A deep breath,
And a stream of chills passed through the room.
It was the rhythm and flow of her voice,
The way she made a stream of words
interlock and weave so smoothly,
In a way I never knew it could.
Her words penetrated my ears, my heart.
She was not speaking;
she was showing me her world.
It echoed in my head,
It took away my breath.
Her soul into mines
And a break in time.
To say she inspired me
Is an understatement
Because it all started
With her voice.
She gave me one.
When my emotions overwhelm,
My tears spill out as ink on paper
My anger is the fire that burns through the words,
and its ashes blacken to ink as they land.
Poetry scars paper with emotion.
It scars so Emotion won’t scar me.
Poetry is my stress reliever,
A tightness reliever.
A taut string that loses tension as I put each word on paper,
Loosen in my veins
From every word written down.
like a smile,
A new world.
I have that voice,
And it is more powerful