Words leak from my hands

and out of the tips of my fingers 

to caress the keyboard

and so i write my emotions out onto this blank space

to create peace inside the cramped apartment that 

is my mind.

I think I should move out. 

 

The laws of this world are rigid

but within these lines 

on this white space

I am free to be 

whatever is needed. 

 

Who has been there for me?

When walls were crouding

and people were bashing 

and the sun seemed to shine less?

 

none other than poetry. 
 

So as I turn 18 years of age

on the 21st of April;

Id like to reconcile 

the one thing that kept me grounded 

is poetry, 

theyre the first to dial.