I Stutter

As I sit, bored, inside my room

I ponder life and death

And stare

And sigh

And roll my eyes

Because it's so absurd.

This thing called "life"

Is not that at all

Sometimes

Because it feels like

Death.

In my mind, I see people,

Shadows,

Apparitions.

And I try

To recreate them,

In drawing or in prose;

They mostly come out warped,

Or short,

Or much to mad and loud.

A lot, however,

They are too small,

Too quiet to be loved.

That's why I write now

Mostly in poems.

The fairies,

Dragons,

Animals,

Trees,

They spin and twirl

Around my head;

As words can only take the time

To describe one instant

Then another,

They come out like this,

A free-form throng of words,

A group so much

Like society,

When I think upon it,

And the more I think,

The more I see,

That the words are really broken.

They are shattered, like people,

Those who make up the mosaic

That is

Our world.

I used to feel broken,

Splintered,

Shattered beyond happiness.

I was compressed,

Contained,

Living in secrecy

Because I used to find pleasure

In hurting myself.

No, not pleasure,

More like relief

And sorrow

Before my repentance.

I deserved the punishments

And all of the scars

For all the mistakes I made.

I hated myself,

And all that I did.

And now, here I sit,

Alone and afraid.

My future does not

Await.

My future, rather,

Is speeding toward me,

A train I will meet head-on.

I think of my past

And ponder my future,

And I don't know

Which frightens me more.

So now, I write poems,

Like I do when I must.

Some people don't feel them,

Some are disturbed,

And some still

Are only confused.

I found out, however,

That when I present them,

Their pure honesty

Somehow halts

Most

Of that thing we avoid

Yet give so readily.

In poems, my thoughts,

Honest and raw,

Are not judged.

In fact, it's relieving

Because my heart

And my head

Combine to form one

In poems.

Sometimes they rush out of me,

So I know they are true.

I also know this

Because

I think mostly in poems,

For words swiftly form and disperse,

Often making it hard to form

The sentences

That people understand

Most easily.

When I speak, in fact,

Sometimes

People believe my words

Are fabrications

Because they cannot see the whole story

When they only hear it.

It might also be because

I stutter.

All of this,

All of this is why

I am a poet.