poeta nascitur, non fit

seeing my own perspective more clearly through the lens of too high test results, i tested his patience and came up negative. he can’t be blamed when he wasn’t well prepared.

i saw where he was coming from and wanted to meet him there, maybe we both got lost along the way.

i’d like to believe that he cared, but maybe he’s just a guy. not sacred because he’s the first, and not of many. maybe i am of the many?

what it comes back to, me still thinking of you.

My writing can come and go,

and some days are more fluent

than others.

Somedays the feelings sing,

other days they make

silence their home.

However, I always find

the words still hide

in tiny cracks of light

and swirl effortlessly

through my mind,

all the time.

If I’m alive, I write.

No matter if my hands move

or it’s all in my mind,

I’m filled with endless words