Hey it's that kid with the ashen skin

Skinny white b♂y who you could snap like a twig

Ask me again how that story went

Because the first time around my voice cracked thin

I st-stuttered when I spoke

I should've told it louder but instead I fucking choked

It's a nuisance

Another story ruined

Second hand embarrassment

For a pessimists amusement

Fumbling my words makes my mumbling unheard

I project my vocals like the smallest little bird

F
A
L
L
I
N
G         

from the nest of a skyscraper

Taking chunks out of cotton candy clouds

If a chick falls in a city, will its' chirps make a sound?

It's a fifty-fifty shot

O__________________________to see if my thoughts get caught

  p ++++++++++++++++++++++++ s

     e ++++++++++++++++++++++ t

         n ++++++++++++++++++ e

             u ++++++++++++++ n

                   p +++++++++ r   

                         y   o   u

 

It might, it might not but why take the chance

To be a poet I can express my emotions without wearing pants

I can speak to everyone and not feel a l o n e

I can throw out all my stress and make the stage my home 

I can think before writing as opposed to speaking without thinking

No longer              in my mind binge drinking from wine

                  sinking

Made from fermented stories aged through symbolisms and rhymes

Instead of being spoiled by forced laughter and no time to find

The reason to share my story in the first place.

Poetry allows you to think

____________

T                      B   Outside of

H                     O

E                      X

 ___________

 

Allowing you to step out on a beach made of cold smooth rocks

Looking out at the tumbling waves

With a tide receding 

Like the

          hairline on

                          an ancient

                                            beggar

 

 

Hey it's me again with the ashen skin

Skinny white b♂y who you could snap like a twig

Stick around I have a tale to spin

A poem about how poetry gave this bird it's  (\ wings /)