my poetry

my poetry bleeds on your skin, my poetry begs you to let me in.

my poetry is my way out, my poetry is true, without doubt.

my poetry is my truth, my freedom.

my poetry is my youth, my surrender.

my poetry is my death, my life.

my poetry is my health, my lies.

my poetry is sick, addicting.

my poetry is a trick, contradicting.

take it how you want, if you want it at all.

let my poetry teach you; don't taunt, stand tall.

let my poetry free you, lead you.

take it how you want.

let my poetry fear you, steer you.

I write for my soul, my spirit.

I write to feel whole, no one hears it.

will my poetry be a mystery or will you understand?

will my poetry be history or will it take a stand?

never end? help you understand? hold the upper hand?

will I ever know? will I ever be able to let my poetry go?

no. I don't think so.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this poem was really just how I felt about my poetry

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KindredSpirit's picture

I feel the same.

Welcome to PP.