words and words and words

want to write more poetry because i know it’s good for my soul

like yoga, or foot massages, or laughter

i want to perfect an craft i’ve always felt most comfortable in, but leave neglected

a blanket i only pull out on the worst days

i want to be the girl with poetry in the notes section of her phone, fragments, words, over heard conversations

“you’re making us look like amateurs here!”

“mother would like this”

“can we get tea”

i want to be poet, claim the term like sorceress, heroine, an identity marker

i want words to be my currency

and everyday be pay day

i want to write i want to write i want to break down every dam inside of me 

every reminder of MLA format every math formula everything that built the walls that kept my poetry in i am Poet, Heroine, Sorceress

my favorite songs are the ones that start slow

same with kisses, and friendships, and memories

my favorite ideas are the ones that come fast

sitting up in the middle of the night heart pounding

my mind feels best when it gets to race

words and words and words